Here's your lifeline
by CaskettFeels
Summary: AU of 6x06 Get a Clue. What if Castle really did get his hand stuck in the wall? Castle!Whump
1. Chapter 1

**6x06 AU: What if Castle really did get his hand stuck in that wall?**

They stood in the cathedral, and the only thing that was going through his mind at the moment was that he would love to get married in a place like this, with such history and beauty to it-though it still paled in comparison to the fiercely hot detective strolling through the chapel with him. He smiled at himself, despite the fact that they were there on a mission. He couldn't help but think of Beckett at all hours of the day. He dreamed of her, even had nightmares of her.

Castle caught the sideways glance she was giving him. "What are you smirking at?" she asked, eyebrow raised, because whatever it was, she was certain he was having impure thoughts in church. Oh god, now she was having impure thoughts in a church. This man! The things he did to her. A shiver raced up and down her spine.

"Nothing," he answered, smirk growing and doing nothing to ease her suspicions. Castle took the image from Beckett of the symbols and held it up. "Amazing, right?" he said.

"Yeah, but what does it mean?" The process because to solve the puzzle, DaVinci style, and writer and muse did what they did best. It didn't take them long to figure out that the ORIS was the answer, and looking at the hole in the wall, Castle handed the image back to his partner and moved trancelike towards it. Beckett watched him, because when that lightbulb went off in his head, it totally did it for her.

Truth be told, his heart was racing. Were they actually going to find treasure? Oh, but then he was there with his _partner_, and knowing her, she'd make him give it back. She had a damn good heart like that, and it was so damn frustrating at times, in the good way, of course.

He chanced a glance back at his fiancee and tentatively extended his hand towards the dark opening in the wall. Beckett wanted to say something, tell him that perhaps this wasn't a good idea, but his hand was already slipping inside the wall, and a twinge of fear stunned her.

Castle could have let Beckett shine her little flashlight in there to see what was lurking inside. He expected spiders and their webs, and other creepy crawlies that would normally have him shriek like a girl, but… _treasure!_ This was totally his Indiana Jones moment, and he wasn't about to back down from it now.

His hand slipped inside, and Beckett looked on with her heart pounding furiously in her chest, burdened by anxiety. Nowhere did it say that this was a good idea, and treasure hunts were usually too good to be true. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was probably a waste of time, but on the other hand, a girl was dead, so there was a very real danger.

Suddenly, Castle screamed, and it startled her. She almost dropped her papers to the stone floor, and ran towards him, but then he stopped and had that look on his face. "I'm just kidding."

"CASTLE!" she berated, her heart skipping beats in her moment of panic. She breathed heavily, thankful that nothing had happened, and yet pissed off because she had just totally been had. _Effing jerk! Typical._

"Can't believe you fell for that," he twisted the knife, so to speak, and Beckett rolled her eyes at him. Ah, but after his birthday surprise last year, she should have expected something like this to happen in such a heart thumping moment. He would milk it for all it was worth. "There is something in here though, hang on," he said cryptically, and yet seriously enough that she believed him.

Seconds felt like eons, and it was like she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, thumping so furiously. She was perhaps just as curious as he was to what was inside.

Castle fumbled around inside, blind to what he was feeling with his walking fingers, or how much dust they were collecting. The thought made him cringe, but hey, treasure would be worth it. He wasn't afraid to get down and dirty, and honestly, there was no way he was going to stand back and let Beckett do this (even though she would without complaining). There were only so many things that she relinquished control over. She never let him drive when they were on duty, which… okay, he could understand, because it wasn't even her car. She always had to be first through the door… which okay, he could also understand, because she had the badge and gun. This case… this had Castle written all over it in spades, and now that he had solved the puzzle of symbols, he was relieved to find she was deferring to his knowledge and… dare we say _genius?_

He felt a lever, just before his elbow were to disappear into the mouth in the wall, too. _Interesting_, he thought to himself. He pushed down on it, flexing his wrist just so. It felt like it needed oil or something due to how hard it was to push down. There was a grinding sound, clicking, gears turning and suddenly, blinding pain. Castle cried out, his voice carrying through the cathedral. He frantically tried to pull his arm out, but couldn't.

Beckett raised an eyebrow at her struggling fiance. "Come on, Castle. You already got me," she admitted to him, because she had to give him at least that. Her levity was short-lived as she watched him continue to struggle and make anguished noises. "Castle?" The prayer candles next to him were knocked over, some smashing to the floor, others rolling in different directions, some with flames still alite, others flickered out.

The papers fell from her grasp and she rushed forward. _Real_ fear gripped her, and she reached him just as his legs gave out. She wrapped her arms around his middle, tried to keep him from landing too hard on his knees. "Castle?" _Talk to me, tell me what's wrong! _She placed her hand on top of the one that was gripping the shoulder of her jacket so tightly. Part of her wondered if she was being played again, but when he started breathing so heavily that she thought he was close to hyperventilating, she shoved those thoughts away.

She turned his head towards her. If she could just get him to focus on her… The tears of pain in his eyes gripped her. "Rick…" He breathed heavily through his nose, jaw clenched tightly. She knew he was trying to stay strong, but she could feel him shaking. "Babe, what happened?" she demanded, looking up at the orifice his arm was trapped in. Her eyes widened when she saw blood drizzling out from the mouth of the carving. "Shit," she said to herself, and maneuvered around behind him. He groaned, but tried to keep it in, when she pulled back the sleeve of his jacket.

Beckett tried to shine the light into whatever space wasn't filled with the flesh of his arm. "I can't… I can't see…" she trailed off, feeling helpless and defeated.

"Something… pierced... my arm," Castle said after a couple of minutes, panting heavily through the pain. "Can't move it."

"Something? Like what?"

"Spikes, maybe?"

"Can you hit the lever again?"

"N-no."

Beckett was temporarily captivated by the blood that was dripping down to the floor. "I'm going to call it in," she said, knowing that they needed help. Quickly, she whipped out her iPhone in its white, shower-proof case and started dialling. The feeling in her stomach plummeted even further as the bars on her phone went from strong to non-existent. "No, no, no," she said over and over, smacking the thing.

"Wh-what?" Castle said, trying to look over his shoulder at her.

She came around to his front and knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked so tired, and in pain, and his blue eyes were so piercing, despite how wet they looked. "I lost the signal," she said, looking at his arm. "I'm going to have to-"

"Go," he interrupted, nodding, understanding. He wouldn't blame her for leaving, though she hesitated, and it was clear she was blaming herself already.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement, and before rising to her feet to run to the entrance, she pressed her lips to his forehead, noting he was clammy. And that worried her.

* * *

The sun was shining blindingly when Beckett stepped outside. She looked down at her phone and waited for the signal bars to reappear in the top corner. It felt like she had been waiting for an eternity, her mind never once leaving her fiance. When the signal _finally_ came back, she called it in as quickly as she could, giving them just the right amount of information they needed.

Turning on her heel, she ran back into the cathedral and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Rounding the corner, she could see Castle at the other end far more limp than she had left him. The arm trapped in the wall was taught, and it looked like it was the only thing that kept him from crashing onto his side. "Castle!" her voice echoed towards him. When she reached him, she dropped down and took his weight onto herself to keep him upright and not injure his arm further.

"Kate," he whispered, eyes opening and closing again.

"I'm right here, Rick. Right here. Just hang on. Help is coming."

He wrapped his free arm tightly around her back and rested his head upon her shoulder. His breath tickled at her neck, and on a normal day, it would have made her feel just as good as her favorite red wine that made her feel all…

She looked at the blood, still drizzling down, and worried her lip. "You're losing too much blood, babe. I think you might've hit an artery."

He groaned his acknowledgement. "Broken bone, too," he mumbled.

"You're sure?"

He merely nodded his head like a little boy against her neck, his voice lost to him. The pain had turned to numbness, but Beckett could tell he was fearful of what would happen next, of what this could mean. As she supported his weight, her eyes scanned over the carving on the wall. There had to be a way to get had to be a way to free him without… No, she wasn't even going to let her mind drift there, even though on some level she already had. _What if… _She could see it so clearly, like someone was shining a spotlight on the most painful memory she had and expanded upon it.

She could see the grass, the way the trees bowed to the wind. There was peace, and silent grief. Rows of tombstones. Her mother was among them, lost in the names surrounding her, and now, one of those names was CASTLE.

Beckett worried her bottom lip and tilted her head to check on her partner, the man who she knew without a doubt would not have let her stick her arm in the wall. "Babe? Keep your eyes open," she instructed, her hand moving along the nape of his neck to card through his hair.

Castle mumbled incoherently against her neck. "Castle!" she verbally jostled him. It had more of an impact than she originally anticipated, because he jolted upwards, and tensed as pain shot through his arm. She winced with him, because… yeah, she could imagine just how much it was hurting. She saw the tired look in his eyes and she guided him to rest against her again. "It's okay," she encouraged. She was used to his weight upon her; in fact, she loved it. Especially after nights of passionate lovemaking, she craved it. She never felt so loved, adored and open with anyone else, but Castle… He made her feel things…

And she wanted to keep feeling that way for a long time.

"Kate," he murmured. "I feel…"

She already knew what he was feeling. He was shaking, and with his erratic breathing and increasingly paler skin, it wasn't hard to figure out. "What?" she asked, anyway, because if she could keep him talking and alert, she had hope, and he could distract her from the rows of tombstones flooding her mind.

"Weird," he said on a shiver.

"You're going into shock. It's going to be okay. Stay awake. Just hang on a while longer." She looked over her shoulder towards the entrance, where she can just barely hear the traffic, and fainter still, the sound of sirens coming to their rescue. They're still a few minutes away, and Beckett was alarmed by the amount of blood gathering at their feet. "Still with me, partner?"

He nodded from under her chin. He felt so cold, and she was so warm against him.

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**A/N: I would really appreciate reviews. They do inspire muses so.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: What if?  
**

Beckett looked down at her watch. The sirens were getting closer, but Castle was so still against her. Silent. Part of her should have expected this. There had been times in the recent past when she had observed his quiet strength. Toxins ravaging his body, a shot to the chest which left the worst bruise she had ever seen; and no, she did not compare the bullet he had taken to the one she had taken. Though, she shivered to think of what would have happened if that bruise had been an inch higher, just like Esposito had suggested.

He didn't complain about those injuries. He didn't draw attention to himself. He wasn't clingy or whiny. He was strong, and silent, and a pillar of support for _her_. She no longer thought of the time he had broken his knee. Despite the fact that he had been clingy and whiny during that time, there was a difference. There was a light at the end of that tunnel; a day when the cast would come off and he no longer needed the wheelchair. His knee paled in comparison to the bullet he took, and the toxin that nearly took him away from her.

Now? Now, he was silent, and trying to be strong, but the occasional whimper escaped from the back of his throat when he shifted his weight, jostled his arm. He was putting on the fascade for her, and God, how she loved this man, but his breathing was rapid. His lips had a tint of blue, and she couldn't lie him down. The mouth of the carving was taunting her now.

She had pulled on his belt, freed it from his pants and wrapped it around his arm tightly. It wasn't much, but she hoped it would help, despite the fact that she had caused him pain while doing it. "I know, babe. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she had said over and over, all the while making sure his belt was secured tightly on his arm.

She could feel his chest rising and falling against her smaller form, and that was the only relief she had at the moment. Unconsciously, she rocked him back and forth, remembering the time he'd woken up from a nightmare in shock, and with what could only be described as muscle memory of the pain he'd ensured in the dream. Was it the bullet he took, or the toxins? Or was it something completely different that she had yet to uncover in his past? She had no idea. She had asked if he wanted to talk about it, and he had shook his head negatively, slumping back down against the pillow and seeking out comfort against her. She gave it to him, no more questions asked. She just kept whispering soft words in his ear back then, as she was doing here and now-things that would keep him tethered to her. It seemed to be working, because he chuckled at one point.

The fire department was first on scene, rushing inside, asking her to step aside so they could work. Beckett furiously shook her head. "I'm not moving, and he's weak," she said as they moved around them, checking his vitals, checking the orifice his arm was stuck in. She watched them worriedly, working on her partner and around them, biting her lip and running her hand through Castle's hair when he hissed at something a fireman did. "It's okay," she said in his ear. "They're going to get you out." How, she didn't know, but worst case scenario had to be that they would amputate or something to that effect. Her heart was broken at the thought. "Breathe. Just breathe." She couldn't tell if it was meant to reassure her, or him. Both, perhaps.

"Ma'am, you're going to have to wait outside," the lieutenant came over, kneeling down beside her. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him."

Beckett looked around wildly at all the tools the firefighters were bringing in. "Wh-what's going on?" she asked sharply.

"We can't get to his arm. It's wedged so tightly in there that we can't see what we're dealing with, so we're going to have to remove the wall, section by section."

"I'm not-"

"Kate, it's okay. Go."

Beckett looked down at Castle's voice to see him looking up at her. She could swim in those eyes, and she knew he was just trying to spare her the pain of _what if?_ But, _Oh, Castle_, '_what if?' will just follow me outside, _she thought to herself. "No…" she reached into her pocket and produced her shield and flashed it at the firefighter. "This man is my partner, and I'm not leaving him, so find another pair of safety glasses. It'll be so much easier for you…" she trailed off, because they would have one hell of a fight on their hands if they tried to get her to leave against her will.

A minute later, two pairs of glasses were handed to her, and she delicately placed one on Castle's face. She smiled down at him, seeing the trust he had in her. Maybe in that moment, it was for the very fact that he believed she wouldn't poke his eye out, but his trust in her for _everything_ left her breathless sometimes. She placed her own glasses on her face and a thick blanket was used to shield them from the work that was going on.

Saws were fired up, and the noise in the immediate area was deafening. Castle sucked in a sharp breath of air and held it while wincing. He had to be feeling the vibrations traveling through his arm, and she held him tightly. On any normal day, the noise of construction would give her a pounding headache, but not today. She welcomed it, and yet wished it would be over quicker.

Eventually, the sound of the saws died down and Beckett poked her head out from under the blanket in time to see the last piece of the wallface being lowered to the ground. She was stunned to see the damage a few tools could do in a short span of time. Half of the carving on the wall was gone, and the hole where Castle's arm was trapped was now five times as big, fiving the firefighters room to operate. Inside the wall was filthy with dust and webs. She saw the device pierced through her fiance's arm. Four prongs with sharp tips, exactly as Castle described them, right along his forearm coming from both directions. It was an effective trap. She breathed heavily at the sight, and then the backs of the firefighters blocked her view and served to take her out of her trance-like state.

She ducked her head back under the blanket and looked down at Castle. He was looking up at her and she tried to smile for him, but it was tight lipped, jaw clenched tight. "It's not that bad," she murmured.

Castle shook his head and let it come to rest on her shoulder. "I can see the truth... in your eyes," came his reply, weak and soft.

A tear fell from her eye, she didn't bother batting it away. She had been trying to reassure him and came up lame. She rested her cheek on top of his head.

She had no idea how long they had been under the blanket. It felt like hours, but in actuality, the firefighters had worked very quickly to free Castle's arm from the contraption, pulling the row of spikes out that mangled his arm and hand, and working in conjunction with the paramedics that had arrived on scene twenty minutes prior.

To no avail. Castle screamed in her ear, and she took it. He sagged against her after a moment when the firefighters gave up trying to pry the spikes from his arm. "We're going to have to take the whole damn thing from the wall," one of the firefighters said.

Beckett didn't care if the whole cathedral needed to be torn down. She'd tell them to do it in a heartbeat, even lend a hand. She just wanted this to be over. No, she wanted it to be a dream. She could feel better after dream, being curled up against him, his arm wrapped protectively around her. Castle was heavy against her, and upon checking, she realized he'd passed out. She didn't know whether she should be thankful for that or not.

There was scraping noises, and grunts from the firefighters and the pulled the snare from the wall, Castle's arm still trapped inside. Suddenly, blanket was gone and she could see. She could _see_, and she couldn't unsee that. "Oh god," she said to herself, and someone ordered for assistance in placing Castle on the stretcher. She could handle it if it were anyone else, but this was Castle!

It wasn't long after that they were wheeling him out to the ambulance, his arm resting atop his body. The paramedics were mindful enough to position the contraption in such a way that it didn't stab him anywhere else. Just as they emerged from the cathedral, a red cruiser pulled up and Esposito and Ryan got out. "Ryan, Espo!" she called to them, waving them over as she followed the paramedics. She'd have to talk fast if she had any hope of getting in the back of that ambulance. "The carving had some sort of trap. Take care of it. CSU, the works."

"On it," Ryan said, dashing inside.

"Yo, Beckett, is he going to be okay?" Esposito asked, watching as the medics loaded the stretcher.

She looked back at the prone form of her fiance. "I don't know, Javi," she answered, and it killed her to even admit that, because he _had_ to be okay. He was larger than life Richard _Freaking_ Castle. "He lost a lot of blood."

"We gotta go!" the paramedic shouted.

Beckett wasted no more words with Esposito, and she knew he would understand that this was one ride she was not going to miss. She raced into the back and made herself small in the corner of the ambulance near his head where she could continue to run her hands through his hair and whisper soothing nothings in his ear. Promises of wedding dresses, and food, and people. Of venues and flowers. Of 'I love you'. Of _them_.

Castle's eyes were still closed, consciousness lost to him. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched the paramedic insert an IV line, moving about the cabin as efficiently as possible. His arm rested on his torso, wrapped up in as much gauze around the punctures as the ambulance probably had available. Already, splotches of red were forming in random places at random intervals. "Please," she directed towards the paramedic, speaking to her as Kate, and not Beckett, because she had to know. Not knowing was the worst part about this. "How bad is it?"

The cabin rocked as the ambulance hit a pothole, and Beckett was surprised none of the instruments fell. "I…" The paramedic looked at her. Beckett put on her detective's face, the one that could handle anything that was thrown at her, the one that tried to keep Kate buried inside. "His hand is pretty mangled. Those spikes, they're were razor sharp." _No shit,_ Kate thought to herself. "Truck 15 is going to follow us to the hospital. We're going to get him into an operating room, and they're going to remove _this._ He's lost so much blood though, and his hand…" the handsome paramedic sucked in a breath.

That told Beckett it was bad. She carded her fingers through his hair, another tear escaping. How could she let this happen? He didn't deserve this. She promised him it would be okay. She only hoped that her word would continue to mean something when all of this was over. Part of her wished that Castle hadn't figured out the clue. Part of her was willing to let the killer get off scot-free if it meant this wouldn't have happened.

As the detective sat in the rocking cabin, helping to keep the ancient metal device from tilting in any way and causing further damage, she berated herself. She needed to stay positive. She needed to keep her mind on the present. For her sake, and for Castle's.

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**A/N: Let's see if I can get 20+ reviews this time around. Even if it's just a 'it's great!' or 'this sucks!' Lol. 20 reviews to keep the muse going and I will post tomorrow. :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The Wait.**

**A/N: Sorry about that, folks! For those of you already following, I was made aware that the chapter hadn't posted properly. I have no idea what went wrong, but, I've posted it again, and if you're reading this, it obviously worked! Enjoy.**

* * *

She thought waiting in the cathedral for help was the worst part, but it wasn't. The worst part was now, with Castle unconscious, help right here, but limited by what they could do for him. She tried not to focus on the contraption, but occasionally, her eyes flickered towards it. There were gears and springs which were the driving force of the mechanism, and two spikes on each side. She could almost feel it herself, her own arm twinging slightly, just looking at it. Clearly, when he had hit the lever, the spikes had come at his arm from each side of the small tunnel, effectively eliminating the possibility that he might be able to slide his own arm off and escape. It wasn't lost on her that it was his right hand-his writing hand, and a spike had gone straight through it from the right, while another spike had gone through his wrist from the left.

It was rusted, and ancient, and thoughts of infection swirled through her mind. Yes, the ambulance was moving too damn slow, and this was happening all so fast at the same time.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Beckett tried to follow them beyond the doors that forbade her to enter. A nurse stepped in front of her, hand extended out to keep the detective at bay. The doors were still swinging back and forth, and she caught glimpses of Castle and firemen, heard disjointed orders being bellowed from the doctors. The need to be in that room with him was overwhelming, but it would turn into an ugly brawl between her and the nurse. Her throat constricted with her denied entrance. "That's my fiance," she said lamely, yet it was still a heartfelt plea to be let inside, to stay by the side of her other half. If she wasn't there… who knew what would happen?

"And the very best doctors in New York will do everything they can for your fiance," the nurse said with an uncertain amount of bias. The doors had stopped swinging, and Castle was gone from view. She looked down at the nurse, noted her nametag said Ruth. It was old fashioned, but it worked. It was clear that Beckett was going to be denied another step in the direction of her beloved. Jaw clenched, and on the verge of fresh helpless tears, she stepped back once… twice… until she was backpedalling to the waiting area where she _knew_ she wouldn't hear anything for _hours_. She had played this game before. Ruth watched each step she took intently, and breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn't need to summon security. That was the hardest part of her job.

It was about twenty minutes after she sat down that she noticed there was blood all over her. Twenty long, stretched out minutes where all she could do was wonder and worry. _Pray_. And while she prayed, she apologized for her thoughts of tearing down the church, but she figured the big guy upstairs would understand… It was Castle! Life couldn't be this cruel. As she sat there, she fought with herself. She should probably clean herself up, get the tremors out of her system, calm herself down. _Have faith._

Faith… a luxury she couldn't afford, not in her line of work. His blood had dried on her hands, her clothes were ruined which didn't bother her for two different reasons, and the first reason trumped the second, so what did it even matter? Sure, the shirt wasn't her favorite, and the jacket wasn't the best one in her closet, but even if they had been her favorite of everything she owned, it was still Castle, and nothing else mattered.

Thirty minutes later, Ruth came over to Beckett, clipboard in hand. It wasn't until she heard a '_hem, hem'_ that Beckett looked up and actually acknowledged the presence of the nurse. "Any news?!" she asked hurriedly, rising to her feet, and eager for any crumb of information that might be thrown her way.

"I'm afraid not, dear," the stout woman replied.

Beckett's shoulders slumped and she looked away. God, she was restless; she couldn't sit back down now that she was up. She looked towards the doors. So tempted. It wouldn't take much to get Ruth out of the way, she wouldn't suspect a thing until it was too late. Palm to the nose. _Ugh!_ She berated herself for even thinking it. Shaking her head, she looked away again. So close, and yet so fucking far.

The clipboard was being thrust in her direction, and Beckett looked down at it, startled for a second. Ruth must have seen the '_WTF' _letters in her eyes, because she smiled sweetly and said, "I just need you to fill out your fiance's information, dear."

She took the clipboard, and dropped her arm to her side, clipboard making the defeated slap against her thigh. Ruth turned, retreated back to her desk, and Beckett could only stand there and watch her with some amount of incredulity. Her fiance was down there, and they wanted her to fill out _paperwork_? She reigned in whatever outburst wanted to flow and looked down at the papers on the board. She could do this. She could… _focus._

Beckett sat down on the chair she'd abandoned and set the clipboard on her thighs. As she looked at the form, it might as well have been gibberish for all the sense it was making. The doors opened, and the lieutenant emerged, followed by a couple of other firefighters. She set the clipboard down on the chair next to her and sprang to her feet. She wasted no time cutting into their path and keeping them from the waiting truck outside. "How is he?" she asked, pleading and desperate.

The lieutenant nodded to his guys to carry on, and he stopped before the detective, squaring his shoulders. It was no secret that there would always be tension between firefighters and police officers, but this was different. Very different, and she hoped he would be able to see that. "Well, I'm not a doctor," he started, gently, "but we got his arm out, he's still unconscious, in shock."

Beckett swallowed thickly. "And his arm?"

"Uhm," he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, it looks like the radial artery was severed. If we didn't get him out of there when we did, this might've been a very different conversation."

Relief washed over her, because the lieutenant just gave her hope. It meant there was a chance Castle would pull through and not let something like a severed artery get him down. She looked down and salty wetness fell from her eyes.

She was startled when his radio came through, obnoxiously loud in the hospital. He offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he murmured, and proceeded to respond. "Industrial fire," he explained, not that he owed her anything.

"I heard," she nodded, turning to watch him leave.

"You're partner is strong, I'm sure." It was meant to reassure, without promising her anything.

"Thank you, but-"

But she didn't have the chance to say he was more than just a partner to her. The firetruck was pulling away, lights flashing. Again, how much did it matter? She moved back to the chair she had been occupying and pulled the paperwork back onto her lap. Filling out the information proved easy enough. She had spent almost six years learning the details of Castle's life. Part of that may have been from the Richard Castle fansite, but he didn't need to know that. Though, if she was honest with herself, he probably already knew. She'd slipped up once or twice, he jabbed her for it.

Before she knew it, the papers were filled out, and there was nothing left to do but hand them in. The nurse was on the phone when she arrived at the desk and set the clipboard down on the breast level surface. She waited, because what else was there for her to do? When Ruth hung up the phone, she took the clipboard with a smile, but said nothing, and busied herself with her work. "Excuse me," Beckett said after a moment, "where's the restroom?"

"Oh, down there and to the left," she answered, pointing in the direction that was opposite of the one Castle was in. She headed that way, feeling more sluggish and weighed down, adrenaline gone. The washroom wasn't far, and she went in. Thankfully, the stalls were empty and she looked at herself in the mirror, eyes red and puffy. Had she looked like this the whole time? She couldn't be bothered to care. Her hands were shaking as she moved them under the faucet. The motion sensor turned on the water, and drenched her hands. She washed them vigorously, watching as red mixed with the water and swirled down the drain… watching as Castle's life swirled down the drain.

The thought hit her so profoundly and she jumped back from the sink like she had been burned. She stood there, letting the water run.

Eventually, she got herself back together, and as she emerged from the restroom, her phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket and noted Ryan's caller ID. She answered immediately, "Beckett."

"_Hey, Beckett. How's Castle?" _

"I don't know, yet. They're still… What have you got?" she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose as she sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area.

"_A crime scene,"_ Ryan answered. "_A murder weapon. A tomb. It looks like someone tried to pry the lid off, but we don't know what's inside yet. We're working on it."_

"Wait, so how did anyone get in that room without setting off the trap?"

"_I can answer that,"_ Esposito said, making it clear she was on speakerphone. "_The levers were left behind. There were two of them. Castle had a fifty-fifty chance of hitting the right one."_

"There must have been a clue somewhere about it…" she mused, looking towards the doors. "Thanks for the update. Keep me posted?"

"_You got it, chica. You, too, hmm?"_

"I will," she promised. "I'm going to call Martha now. Talk later." Saying goodbye. she ended the call and cycled through her contact list. She landed on Martha Rogers and sighed to herself. She'd done this before, and now she felt like she was some sort of broken record. _Rip the band-aid, Katie,_ she could hear her father's voice, and she hit the call button.

The phone rang, and after the first one, she wanted to hang up. Oh, hell, she didn't want to make the call in the first place, if she was honest with herself. Second ring was worse, her stomach clenching violently. Third time, she closed her eyes and felt guilty for even wishing Martha might not answer the phone. She had no answers to give to the vibrant woman in that moment, and she knew Martha would only have questions.

"Katherine, dear!" Martha's voice sounded on the other end. She sounded so alive, and seemed to be having a good time. Honestly, Kate could barely recall a time when she _hadn't_ seen the happy-go-lucky actress. Well, that wasn't entirely true, because clearly there were times. The time when Alexis had been kidnapped, the explosion at the bank, and the recent cases where Castle had nearly left them all. Still, it's neither here, nor there.

"Martha, hi," she mumbled, wishing she didn't have to burst whatever bubble the woman was living in at the moment.

"Katherine? What's wrong?"

Beckett hesitated for a moment. "It's Rick," she said, cringing at her own words. "There's been an accident."

"_Is he alright? What happened? Where are you?"_ The questions came off in a flurry, just as Beckett expected them to. She closed her eyes, steeling herself for them.

"I haven't seen the doctors yet," she explained, and hopefully that would stall the questions she didn't have answers to. "We're at the hospital. We were investigating, and Rick got his arm caught in a boobytrap."

"_Oh, my word… how bad-"_

"All I know is, he's lost a lot of blood. Martha…" she waited a beat, "I think you should come down here."

"_What about Alexis?"_

Beckett could hear Martha moving around on the other end of the line, and she knew the elder woman was gathering her assortment of _things_ she couldn't leave the loft without. She looked down and shuffled her feet, because… what about Alexis? "I'm not sure we need to worry her needlessly? But, it's your call, not mine." She certainly didn't want to step on anyone's toes, and she really didn't want to be on the wrong side of the redhead.

Martha thought for a moment, and Beckett could still hear her moving around until there was the sound of a door closing. "_No, you're right. We'll wait until you hear from the doctors."_

"Okay. I'll see you soon." Line dead, she replaced the phone in her back pocket, and now, all she could do was wait.

* * *

**A/N: And the 20th review came in today! Thank you all very much for your kind words, even if I may have forced them out of you ;) I appreciate the feedback as well, and I tried to address some of it in this chapter. Off to work on Chapter 4 now. Let's see... same rules apply? 20 for tomorrow?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Finally, some news...**

**A/N: I am so sorry for those of you who couldn't read chapter 3. There are times when even I am having trouble reading it. It's weird. At times, it says there are 3 chapters, and then other times it says there is only 2... I don't get it! So, even if I didn't get 20 reviews, because of this error/blunder, here is the next chapter and hopefully it will fix the problem? LOL.**

It occurred to Beckett that she should have asked Martha to bring another shirt to the hospital with her, but the thought didn't hit her until well after she had arrived. Hours. It had been _hours_ now, and she was going stir-crazy with each passing moment. She'd asked the nurses for updates-drove them crazy, really-but they had none to give. Beckett was losing her patience, but it was quite possible that the nurses and receptionists were in the same boat, too. She knew she wasn't an easy person to reason with in times like this. She didn't back down when she wanted something. Alas, they were left woefully in the dark, regardless, until….

A doctor came out of the double doors, and they swung back and forth behind him. Beckett leaned, trying to catch a glimpse, but Castle wasn't there. She knew he wasn't there. There was probably a labyrinth beyond those doors that led to multiple rooms, and Castle could be in any one of those. She sighed to herself, and focused on the doctor's slow approach. The shuffle in his step, the hand pulling his surgical mask down elevated her heart rate instantly. The doctor was young, boyish, with chiseled features. What did those motions mean? She was good at reading people, but doctors? Apparently, they weren't _people_. She couldn't tell what his slow stride meant. Was it fatigue? Or was it the walk of a doctor about to deliver bad news?

Martha's hand sought hers, squeezed tightly, affectionately, worriedly. Beckett fortified herself, made herself strong for the elder woman, and for Castle.

"Family of Richard Castle?" the doctor asked, stepping up to them. Even his voice sounded boyish, and Beckett had to refrain from asking how old he actually was.

"Yes. Kate Beckett, Martha Rogers." Neither were _Castle_ by name (yet), and the doctor stared blankly at them_. _"Uh…" Beckett gestured to herself, and then Martha. "Fiancee, mother." She stood there, hazel eyes pleading for good news, and she exhaled a shaky breath. It felt like a moment on a reality show, the results of whatever contest being drawn out with a drumroll.

"I'm Doctor Michaels," he said, "and I'm just going to start by saying he's stable. He's being taken to a private room."

"Oh, thank God. I want to see him," she said, urgency pouring out.

"Well, when he's settled, certainly. I'll have a nurse take you, but he won't wake up for a few hours, at _least_. We've extracted the spikes, for lack of a better word. We are worried about infection, but we're taking steps to prevent that. We've reset the bone in his arm. We're also worried about the amount of blood he lost. The radial artery was severed like so..." He held up his arm, and using his other hand, showed them the trajectory of the spike that had impaled Castle's arm.

Martha whimpered and clutched at Beckett's hand tighter. "There was a lot of damage to try and repair. As it stands, we are unsure if he'll regain the use of his hand, but truthfully, it's just too early to tell." He crossed his arms over his chest, closed himself off, maintained the distance needed to effectively treat his patients and address their loved ones. It was like a shield, protecting him from the emotions he stirred in the family. "He's in need of a blood transfusion-"

"Take my blood!" Beckett said instantly, stepping forward in a slightly imposing manner arm outstretched. _Hook me up, now._ Whatever Castle needed, she wasn't going to take _no_ for an answer. "However much you need. I'm type O. That's universal, right?"

The doctor held his hand up to to calm her down, shaking his head. "Well, yes, but It doesn't work like that; it would take a few days to properly test your blood, and besides, we've already started. The nurse is with him now, and she'll be with him for twenty minutes or so." Beckett lowered her arm, her face flushing, partially with embarrassment, but she wasn't going to be sorry for it. Suddenly, his head tilted upwards at the voice over the paging system. "I'm sorry, excuse me."

Beckett and Martha were left to watch him rushing down the hall. Martha turned back to look at Beckett, and before she knew it, she had a head of red hair in her face and arms wrapping around her so tightly. She was momentarily stunned, then wrapped her arms around her in return. "He's going to be fine, Martha," she whispered reassuringly to his mother, but somewhere in the back of her mind was doubt. "I think now would be a good time to bring Alexis in… I know she and Rick aren't seeing eye to eye right now, but, I think she'd want to be here."

"Of course, dear, you're right."

When Martha stepped away and pulled free her cell phone, Beckett felt like she could breathe again. She wanted to be that pillar of support for Martha and Alexis, but she was barely holding it together herself. She paced a little, waiting, patience wearing thin. "Voicemail!" Martha growled. "What's the point in having a cellphone if you're not going to answer it?! Alexis, call me, _now._" Then, she hung up.

* * *

It was a half hour later when the nurse _finally_ came to collect them and guided them through a maze of hallways until they arrived at the private room only Castle's money could buy. Honestly, Beckett was glad for it. She was happy to be able to sit in the room with her fiance and be afforded a certain amount of privacy to watch over him.

The nurse opened the door, and stepped in. Beckett let Martha go first and when she moved in after, her legs felt like jelly the second her eyes landed on Castle's bed. She grasped the handle of the door to steady herself. Still, at the heart of it, she was grateful he was alive, that the heart monitor dictated to her his stable condition. "Thank you," she said absently to the nurse, and moving into the room, the door shut behind he and the nurse was gone.

She moved along Castle's right side, her steps almost faltering as she looked at him. His hair was tousled,and he had a nasal cannula under his nose. He still looked deathly pale, his arm was splinted and wrapped up in enough gauze to put a mummy to shame. Martha held fast to his left hand, mindful of the IV line, and she was silent with tears in her eyes.

Beckett was right there with her, eyes watering. She reached a hand out and fussed with his hair, took him in, thanked the big guy upstairs. She was shaking all over again, adrenaline coursing through her. She would have preferred his beautiful blue eyes staring up at her, but she was just so thankful his heart was still beating. Everything else could wait until later. She leaned down, pressed her lips to his forehead.

She pulled up a stool, sat down next to the bed. Her hand stroked up and down his shoulder, and it was soothing. The room was silent for the most part. The sound of the heart monitor was one thing, but the sniffling of Martha was another.

She was taken back to memories of DC, sitting in very much the same spot, watching the rise and fall of his chest. She sighed to herself, leaned back and… just watched.

It was much different than watching him sleep, that was for sure. She hadn't told him, but he made the cutest little noises when he slept, not quite snoring, but borderline, and he _never_ caught her staring. She was much more sly about it, whereas he practically made it a point to let her know he was staring at her. While she told him it was _creepy_ and he needed a new hobby, she had to admit that she never felt more loved than she did in those morning moments where the sunrise cast a perfect glow in the bedroom, and she lazily drifted back to wakefullness with him beside her. She loved those mornings. She always wondered what went through his head in those moments, but his answers were always cryptic. Not in a negative sort of way, but the sort of cryptic that afforded him a cocky smirk, and a look of 'If only you could see what I see.'

She _hated_ this waiting game. Another hour had passed, and she hadn't said a word to Martha, and Martha offered none in return. The sounds captivated the both of them, listening for any hint that he might regain consciousness at any minute. Both were on alert for it.

* * *

Three hours of hyperawareness passed Beckett by. Martha had long since gotten restless and took to coming and going from the room, occasionally checking on her son, only to be disappointed when he hadn't woken up just yet. The lovely woman was kind enough to bring a coffee to Beckett, who accepted it with gratitude. They tried calling Alexis over, and over again, but the young Castle didn't answer, making Beckett wonder where she was, what she was doing. _She should be here_, she thought bitterly to herself, but alas, it wasn't Alexis's fault that she _wasn't_ there when she didn't even know where it was she was supposed to be.

She whispered loving sweet-nothings in his ear. Hoping she would get a response from him, a mumble or a twitch, but she sat back when the nurse came in, and she was left disappointed that Castle still hadn't made a move.

The nurse had removed the IV line, blood transfusion done, and busied over Castle, checking his vitals and the like. Beckett moved out of the way for her and leaned against the wall by the window. She watched her every move like a detective would a suspect, every adjustment of the sheets at Castle's waist, and honestly, it was rather irritating. Whether the woman was just a perfectionist or simply had a crush on the millionaire writer, she couldn't tell, but a little monster inside her reared up at the thought of the latter. Still, she said nothing. Made no point to flash her engagement ring, which she had long since been taken off the chain around her neck and slipped onto her finger. Support for him, support for her.

The nurse left, without uttering a word to Beckett, only shot her a look over her shoulder. _Definitely the latter,_ she thought to herself with an eyeroll and pushed off the wall. She hesitated by Castle's right side, and instead of sitting there, moved to occupy Martha's vacant chair on the left. She adjusted the sheets at Castle's waist, back to the way _she_ had arranged them.

"I thought she'd never leave," Beckett whispered, hand holding fast to Castle's in a possessive, yet loving manner, but it felt like she had an echo, something that was not unfamiliar to her when it came to Castle. Words spoken at the same time, same wavelengths their brains surfed on, came in a much more deep and groggy voice. Castle's eyes were still closed, but Beckett was momentarily stunned, because that was most certainly Castle's breathed heavily, exhaling almost on a groan.

Beckett was off her stool in an instant when she realized what just happened. Her hand clutched tighter at his, and she resisted climbing up onto the bed and straddling him. She just wanted to crawl inside him in that moment, feel his warmth and loving embrace. It would be life affirming… _again._ She smiled down at him, almost lying in the damn bed with him as she did. "Rick," she whispered, coaxing him out from the pull of drugs in his system. She was certain he wanted to flutter back to unconsciousness, back to nothingness, but she needed him here, for a moment-_two_, if he could spare them. Her other hand went through his hair; how could he refuse this gesture?

His eyes fluttered, battling the brightness in the room. "RRRRick," she seductively whispered, rolling the R, reminiscent of the way she woke him up in the middle of the night as horny as a teenager.

Castle groaned. "Don't do that to me," he muttered. "So sexy." His eyes opened fully, landing on her beautiful face, curtained by her hair that she had taken down at some point.

Laughter bubbled forth. "What else am I supposed to do? You've been asleep for hours…" And then it hit her… the nurse leaving, Castle pretending… "Just how long have you been awake, mister?" She could hear Laine's voice now: _Ooohhhhh, you're in trouble now._

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Leave me some love, and we'll see about tomorrow. ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Price of Anger.**

Beckett was lost in his ocean blues, even if they looked drugged and tired at the same time. The wheels in his head were turning, struggling for words that the foggy haze wouldn't let him realize. Had she gone home when visiting hours were officially over, she would have missed the piercing blue of his eyes. She may have abused her badge when they tried to kick her out, flashing it so it glinted perfectly in the light. They didn't try to kick her out again after that.

"How 'bout it, Castle?" she nudged him, all the while smiling that bright smile, because even if he had been awake for a while and she just didn't know it, she didn't have it in her to be mad when she was so relieved.

"Not long," he managed. "You said _I love you - _I love you, too, by the way. I heard that, and it felt like a dream, a beacon. It was so peaceful, and then the worst nurse in the world came in and _tortured_ me," he growled, looking down at his arm, already starting to bruise where the IV had been inserted. "Figured I should, y'know… play dead for a while." He chuckled, because yes, these were the lengths he would go to in order to avoid something unpleasant, like a nurse prodding at him further and running more tests.

"Not funny, Castle," Beckett murmured, pressing her lips against his. She didn't care if his lips were chapped or dried out. She moistened them for him, her tongue sliding along the surface. His mouth parted just slightly in invitation and she took it, dueling with him until she was breathless and biology told her to take a break. Pulling away, she squeezed his hand. She wasn't going anywhere, but the droop of Castle's eyes told her that he might be soon, and that was okay. She couldn't believe how much she missed that in the several hours since the accident - no, _incident_. This was no accident. That trap had been set purposefully, the intent to trap someone deliberate.

She perched on the side of the bed, her hip bumping his, her pearly whites shining at him in her happiness. "Not funny, at all." And just like that, her smile fell away, and she looked down at their hands resting on her lap, her thumb stroking the soft skin between his thumb and index finger. "You don't know how close it was, babe."

When Castle flashed his eyes up to her, she knew it was too late to erase the pained look on her face. All she could offer him now was a half smile in the face of the possibility that today could have been much different, but it mercifully wasn't.

Weakly, Castle's hand squeezed hers and released, moving up to her cheek. His arm felt weighed down, like magnets pulling it back to the mattress. Beckett caught his hand before it could fall and held it to her cheek for him. She pressed a butterfly kiss to his palm, and his thumb gently swiped away a tear that she had no idea fell, and now that she was aware, another followed. "Kate…" he murmured, trying to smile for her. "It's okay."

"I know… _now_," she replied, smiling. "But, I didn't _then_." She leaned forward, resting a hand on his chest and pressed another kiss to his lips. "I was so scared, Castle," she breathed, resting her forehead upon his.

"You…" he motioned to her shirt. "There's blood on you."

"Yeah," she murmured with a nod. "Yours."

"I'm sorry." Beckett shook her head at that, not accepting the apology because there was nothing to apologize for. She never once thought that this had been his fault, even though he liked to touch things - that was a well known fact about the man she loved, and it was one of the reasons she was so head over heels. Castle could smell the coffee on her breath, savored it as it mixed with everything Beckett. "What happened?" he asked after a beat. He tried lifting his right arm, intending to plunge his hand into her hair, but pain coursed through the limb and he gasped, loud, grit his teeth to stay relatively calm.

Beckett pulled back to watch him, sympathy oozing out of her. "Just, try not to move it," she said, wincing slightly. "_Breathe._ You're okay." She breathed with him, reminding him of how it was done, apparently, and that would have amused her if it weren't for the pain he was in. She waited for him to settle back down and release the tension that came with the pain. He breathed deeply and eventually, she saw him relax again. "What do you mean 'what happened'?" she asked. "You don't remember?" Oh, how this reminded her of a few years ago, tables turned. She knew she couldn't make up for what she had done to him, but she was going to try, every single day of her life.

"No, no," he was quick to push those memories away, "I remember that part… _vividly_," he added and paused as he relieved it in the flash of a few seconds. It wasn't until Beckett rubbed her hand over his heart that he continued. "I mean _after._"

"After you fainted?" she teased, smiling.

"I did _not_ faint," and that truly was his wounded pride speaking that had Beckett backtracking and continue to move her hand soothingly on his chest.

"I know," she said. She wasn't going to push his mood too much. Neither of them were prepared for a fight, and she honestly hadn't meant to offend. _Foot, meet mouth,_ she thought bitterly. "I was teasing. I'm sorry. God, you have no idea how much you amazed me today, Rick. Your strength. You kept _me_ from falling apart back there. You were so calm."

Castle was silent for a moment, and Beckett wondered if she had pushed a button she clearly hadn't meant to. "I don't remember getting my arm out…" and for the first time, he looked down at the appendage.

"The firefighters tried to get your arm out," she explained, "but you had already lost so much blood, and it was just so painful, and you were in shock... you lost consciousness." She could remember it as clear as day, how heavy his weight was against her. His scream in her ear. All the pain she wished she could take away but couldn't. Castle gave her a look, expecting to to continue. "You didn't _faint._ It was a very _manly_ loss of consciousness."

"Better," he said, smile spreading.

Beckett grinned back at him, kissing him again. "They took a portion of the wall out. Took them a while. It was thick, and made of stone, and they ended up having to take the whole thing out, with your arm still in it. They couldn't take it out until we got to the hospital. Thought you might lose even more blood in the ambulance if they did." She whimpered, forehead against his again, and it just wasn't _close_ enough. She was crawling out of her skin with need, and he was _right here_ and her eyes were _open_ and she could see him, but this was pure agony not to be one with him in that moment in the privacy of their bedroom where they could moan in pleasure together_._ "I'm so glad you're okay."

He nodded, eyes falling shut. "Better me than you," he said on an exhale, and he was pulled under again.

She sighed to herself, and remained perched on the side of his bed. He might've been asleep again, but those few minutes had restored her somewhat, and she could smile and look forward again. Broken pieces of her heart were mended instantly. It was things like this that just made her fall in love with him all over again. He was always looking out for her, even when she didn't want him to. He was just too sweet for his own good, too willing to follow her blindly into whatever waited for her on the other side of the door. His loyalty astounded her, really.

"Oh, Castle," she murmured, more to herself than him. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

* * *

Martha came back about ten minutes later, and Beckett twisted to look at her. "Bad timing," she murmured apologetically. And yet, part of her was grateful, and another part was guilty for the woman's timing. It had given her a few uninterrupted moments with Castle, and on the other hand, how selfish was it of her for being grateful for that? Martha deserved to sit with Rick just as much, if not more, than she did. God, she felt just terrible now, and rose from her perch.

Reluctantly, she let Castle's hand go, and stepped away to give the redhead room. "He just woke up, but fell asleep again."

"But you talked to him?" Martha said, hand clutching at her own chest to calm the frantic beats of her heart. "What did he say? How is he?" She moved to Castle's side, and took his hand.

Beckett moved towards the window and looked outside at the traffic. "He's… in better spirits than I thought he'd be - but that could just be the really good drugs talking," she answered after a moment. "I don't know, we didn't get to talk much." As she looked outside, she wondered just how much of a problem moodswings were going to be for her fiance. They had fallen off their rails a few minutes ago, the casual banter they were so accustomed to had been lost to him for a moment. She worried, felt she had every right to. She was happy she managed to salvage those few moments with him, but it was niggling at the back of her mind, sneaking around like a ninja ready to strike.

"You look tired, Katherine," Martha said. "Go home. Shower. Rest."

The detective crossed her arms and shook her head, long locks of hair bouncing just so. She turned to look at Martha. "I -"

"Don't argue with me, dear. This isn't the time to play the heroine."

As much as she wanted to go home and change out of her clothes and take a quick five minute shower that would make her feel world's better, she didn't _want_ to. She didn't want to miss those blue eyes opening again. She nodded her head, however. "Okay, but I'm coming right back," she said, daring the diva to argue with that. She couldn't stop herself from kissing him again. Even though everything in the room was sterile and medicinally smelling, Castle was still Castle, and that made her smile as she walked to the door and grabbed her jacket from the hook. "Couple of hours, no more."

* * *

With her promise to be back, Beckett left the hospital and hailed a cab. She ended up at the loft, using her key to get inside. As the door closed behind her, she leaned on it and took a minute. This was home now, and the day caught up to her. She cried, for the man she almost lost, for the overwhelming relief that he was alive, for how powerless she felt. Everything. She cried for a good while, and when her tears finally stopped, exhaustion began to set in. It was the early hours of the morning, and through blurred eyes she made out the time on the microwave in the kitchen. 2:30am. Calling Alexis now was practically out of the question, or was it.

Knowing that Castle was going to be fine, Beckett was unsure of what the protocol here was. She mulled it over while she went to the bedroom through the office, and began stripping along the way. She left her clothes in the hamper, but something told her the white shirt might just need a good throwing out. Heh, maybe it all needed to be thrown out. She didn't need the reminder, regardless.

The shower was a punishing hot. She washed quickly, smiling at the thought of Castle and how different her showers were when they were sharing the spray. That was the amazing thing about Castle - he made everything seem new, no matter no many times they had done it. Every shower with him, every movie night, every game, every time they made passionate love - it didn't matter what they were doing with one another - he always made it feel fresh, and she knew she could never get bored of him.

Minutes later, she was dressed, her hair still wrapped in a towel to keep the curls from dripping on her teal colored shirt. She opted for a pair of form fitting jeans and secured her mother's ring around her neck and her father's watch around her wrist. She looked at the bed, paused for a moment to consider it. They both made that bed yesterday.

"_Bed made!"_ Castle had declared when the pillows had been situated. "_I can't wait to ravage you in it when we come home tonight." _

"_If you think I'm putting out tonight after __**that**_ _line, you're crazy,"_ Beckett had said in return. "_You can ravage yourself."_

"_Well… only if you're watching._" That smug look on his face had totally done it for her, and when they went into the shower, together, she put out just fine.

As much fun as it was to stand there and reminisce about their varying escapades in the bedroom, she was itching to get back to the hospital. After throwing the towel in the hamper with her clothes, she gathered another jacket in her arms, her keys, badge and service weapon. She wondered if he'd woken up again.

Instead of hailing a cab, she took the elevator down to the basement, and finding Castle's mercedes in its spot, she used the key he'd given her - '_Just in case',_ he'd said - and left the underground garage.

She had to hand it to Castle. It was a smooth ride, but his ferrari was a _hot_ one.

Beckett had decided, and instead of making the turn towards the hospital, she sped down the road towards Alexis's new place. Despite whatever problems they two had, they just needed to get over it. She parked outside the building, scoped it out. She stepped out of the car, and in the lobby, found Alexis and Pi's names taped on the resident's board with their buzz code.

She hated to do it, but she buzzed. 'Come on, come on,' she thought to herself. It was almost 4am now, and Beckett felt like she was going to fall off her feet. Patience was all but out the window now. She was about to leave, try again tomorrow, when Pi's voice crackled through the speaker. "H-hello?"

"Pi? It's Kate."

"Mrs-C-To-Be!" he sounded excited for all of a minute before he must've realized what time it was.

"Can you buzz me up? I need to talk to Alexis."

"Uh, Sure, sure," he said, and the door latch disengaged on a buzz.

Beckett let herself in, and rode the elevator up to the third floor. Finding their apartment was easy enough and before she even raised a hand to knock, the door swung open. Alexis stood there, hair mussed and in a housecoat. "Kate?" she murmured. "What's wrong?"

She tried not to take it personally. Perhaps it was the ungodly hour that kept the young girl from inviting her inside, but perhaps it was something more, too. "We've been trying to get ahold of you all night," Beckett said after a moment.

"Oh, I know," Alexis replied, completely nonchalant, too.

Brow furrowed, Beckett wasn't quite sure what to do with that. "You... _know_?" she prompted, because what the fuck?

"Oh, it's just, my phone rang in the movie theatre, and then I turned it off. I guess I just… forgot about it."

Beckett eyed Alexis suspiciously, and immediately deduced that the younger woman was having sex with her boyfriend. Granted, she had suspected a while ago and didn't put thought into it since, well… because _gross_. Now, now it was practically slapping her in the face. In this day and age, one simply didn't just _forget_ about their phone unless there was a really good reason.

"Okay, well, I… you need to come with me, Alexis. There's been an accident and your dad is in the hospital."

Well, that lit a fire and Alexis straightened up. "Is he okay?" she asked, naturally concerned.

"Yeah, he's going to be fine," Beckett was quick to reassure, and she cracked a smile when Alexis visibly relaxed, but there was something about the look on her face, switching from concerned to stone cold in a matter of seconds.

"Well, thank you for letting me know."

Beckett was taken aback, and she thrust her hand out when Alexis actually attempted to shut the door. "Alexis?" She knew it was a rocky road between them right now, her and her father, but this was a side to Alexis she had never seen before. "Did you hear me? Your dad is in the hospital."

"Yes, but he's going to be okay. That's great."

"Well, don't you want to come down?" she made a gesture in what she thought was the general direction of the hospital.

Alexis shook her head. "No."

There were no immediate words to that. "No? I… I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to, Kate. Thank you for telling me."

"Come on, Alexis," Beckett said on an airy, nervous chuckle. "I know your dad would love to see you. Look, whatever is going on between you two, can you shelve it for a while?"

"This isn't a book, detective," Alexis said, crossing her arms low on her torso. The formality of her title and the vileness behind it struck Beckett, hard. "We can't just close it when things don't go our way."

"Help me understand, Alexis. Please. I can't go back there like this… Without you."

She watched Alexis look down, searching for her words, a way to explain without giving too much away. "My dad loves you, you know." Beckett said nothing in return, because yes, she knew, and had no idea what that had to do with anything. "And, I accept that, and I care about you, too, but I never judged or talked him down from you. Even after everything you put him through over the years…"

"No, wait, Alexis," Beckett started, because clearly the young Castle didn't understand.

"This isn't about you, though," the redhead barrelled on, and Beckett closed her mouth, heart thumping furiously. "This is about him, not affording me the same respect. I know how he really feels now, and I don't want that in my life, or Pi's."

"Alexis, your father is in the _hospital_," she emphasized and gave an exasperated sigh. Priorities!

"You've said, but you also said he's going to be okay, and for that I am happy," though her tone was anything but. "If he wasn't, I'd be out the door with you, but just because he's in the hospital now, doesn't erase how angry I am at him, and it doesn't erase the fact that _he_ doesn't accept the way I want to live my life, or who I want to live it with."

Beckett took a step back. "I can't… change your mind?"

"No."

"He loves you. He wouldn't have said what he did if he didn't. He just wants what's best for you - so much that it _hurts_. I'm sure he would apologize right now if he knew you felt this way."

"I'm sure he would, too, but that wouldn't be enough. I'm still mad, and he needs to learn."

"So you're going to punish him now when he needs you most?" Beckett asked.

"I'm not saying it's fair, or that it's right," Alexis said with an indifferent shrug. "It's just what I feel, and I don't want to feel _this_ anymore. I know you'll take care of him, and that's enough for me right now." She nodded her head, and this time when the door started to close, Beckett didn't stop her.

* * *

**A/N: Now, some of you may, or may not like Alexis in this moment. I'm trying to stay slightly true to what happened in the episode. Some of you might think she'd rush to the hospital, but on the other hand, she was fairly angry at him in the first place, enough to deny him entrance into her own home. So, before you judge, just keep that in mind. Haha. Let's see... 20 for tomorrow? :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Dangling Carrots**

Beckett sat in the driver's seat outside the hospital. The best she could say was that she tried, and after that conversation with Alexis, the worst that she felt was that this was all her fault somehow. She hadn't been at the dinner between the Castles and Pi, and she knew that what happened between Castle and his daughter had nothing to do with her. Still, there was a part of her that questioned, wondered if Alexis _truly_ accepted them. _Even after everything you put him through over the years…_

Those words were like a slap in the face. She knew she had made Castle wait, and that his life was in danger because of her and the job that _wasn't_ his job... and now looking back, she regretted it, but they were here now, ready to walk down the aisle and be forever with one another, and she couldn't imagine the job without him anymore. She sighed to herself and tried not to dwell, and reasoned Alexis's reaction to high emotions. She was confident it would blow over. Anger in the heat of the moment made people say and do stupid things that they'd regret later. Telling herself that Alexis would come around allowed her to walk into the hospital and not drive back to drag Alexis there, kicking and screaming.

The door to Castle's room was closed, and Martha was sitting outside it on a bench, head resting against the wall with her eyes closed. Beckett approached, sympathetic look on her face. "Brought you a coffee," she said to the elder woman, holding out the styrofoam cup.

Martha opened her eyes and accepted it. "Thank you, dear," she said, and took a tentative sip of the magma hot liquid. "This tastes like bog sludge."

Beckett chuckled, sitting down next to her with her own cup in hand. "Well, it is hospital coffee," she said. "Beggers can't be choosers. So… um…" Looking towards the door, she couldn't help but wonder why they were sitting outside.

Catching on, Martha nodded her head. "They're just running their tests. He woke up not long after you left, actually," she added happily. "You know the first thing he asked for?"

The detective looked down at her cup, a small smirk twitching at the corners of her mouth. Oh, she had an idea of what Castle would ask for. "Probably a good cheeseburger."

"You, Katherine. You."

"Yeah," she said in a giggle. That was her initial thought, and her face flushed, feeling all warm and tingly inside. "I love him so much, Martha."

"I know you do, kiddo. You have made my son happier than I have ever seen him."

A nurse came out just as Beckett was about to respond. She closed her mouth and watched the woman disappear down the hall. "Go on," Martha encouraged. Beckett just smiled and went for the door. "I'm going to try Alexis again. She's an early bird, so, she should be up now."

"Oh… um… Martha…" Beckett started awkwardly, hand on the doorknob. She winced with the words that didn't want to come out and break the poor woman's heart. "She's not coming."

"What do you mean, dear? Did you get a hold of her?"

"I swung by her place on the way here…" As much as she didn't want to delve into the words exchanged between the two of them, she did. At the very least, she owed Castle's mother the truth. "Martha…" Beckett ran a hand over her tired face, "I really didn't want to get in the middle of it, y'know? When it comes to the two of them, I don't want to take sides, but I thought she at least needed to know and give her the opportunity to see him. I just felt that it wasn't my place to force her into coming down here. And now, I just hope… I hope I didn't make things worse." What surprised her was Martha nodding her head along with the words, understanding on her face. "I'm sorry… you understand why she won't come?"

"'Fraid I do. It wasn't the best dinner, and Richard did say some things that maybe he shouldn't have. I know, I know," she held up a hand, "it was only because he loves her and he's just trying to look out for her. Alexis has always been the more responsible one in the family. To this day, I still don't know how he managed that, but I suppose I can understand her anger. For years, he's been trying to be the bad influence on her. He's been trying to get her to exert her independence. Now that she has, he's…"

"Not as supportive as she thought he'd be."

"Don't get me wrong, I agree she should be here. I think maybe she just needs to be reminded of the important things in life."

"I tried to, Martha. I just didn't know what else to say."

"Let me try, dear. I'm going to run home. Shower, change, and then I'll talk to Alexis." Martha considered Beckett for a moment, eyes narrowing and reading her like a book. "I know what you're thinking. This isn't on you."

"Thank you, Martha. Oh, here." She reached into her pocket and produced the key to the mercedes. "Better than getting a cab at this time of morning. Just -"

"Don't tell Richard you let me drive it? That goes without saying, dear. Thank you. I should be back in a few hours. They probably won't let me back in here until visiting hours start again, so I'll be back around then."

Beckett nodded her head, recovering from her amused smile, and as the woman walked away, she opened the door and let herself into Castle's room. He was propped up in the bed now, his hair was still all over the place, and she smiled at the boyish grin he was giving her. "Finally, some real company," he said to her as she approached the bed, "and with treats, too." He extended his hand for the cup of coffee, but she held it just out of reach. "Well, that's just like dangling a carrot, isn't it?"

She almost broke at the pout he was giving her, but she set the coffee down on the table, far enough that he couldn't reach it if he tried. "Tell you what, babe. For as long as you can't have coffee, I won't have coffee."

"Now that's what a partnership is all about," he smiled, genuinely with a twinkle in his eye.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm alright. Apparently, I'm going to have some really cool scars." While he seemed excited about the prospect now, Beckett frowned. "Tomorrow. I get out of here tomorrow."

Beckett looked outside. "Tomorrow as in a few hours from now because the sun hasn't come up, or tomorrow as in more than 24 hours from now?"

Castle seemed confused for a second, and Beckett looked at him, seeing the fog in his eyes. "The f-first one…" he answered slowly. "No… wait…" She grasped his hand and squeezed. She understood. "Uh, the second one," he said after a moment.

"That's still good news," she said, smiling. "Really good."

"So, uhm… not that I don't _love_ to see you, but… um…"

Beckett could tell where this was going, and honestly, she was surprised it had taken him this long to work up the courage to ask. "Um?" she prompted, because she wasn't ready to answer the question. The precious seconds it would take him to ask would be enough time to compose an answer in her head… _she hoped_.

"Where's Alexis?"

Not nearly as many seconds as she'd hoped for. Sighing to herself, she looked away, gathered her strength. Sighing, she perched herself on the edge of his bed, hand roaming his chest lovingly, moved up to his hair because if he had a mirror, he'd freak out. "Babe… Alexis is still… a little mad at you."

"So… she's not here?" he asked, swallowing thickly.

"I'm sorry," she answered by way of confirmation. "I stopped by her place this morning and… well…. she just isn't coming, I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know how much it would have meant to you if she were here." Disappointment was radiating off of Castle, and all she could do was sit there and let him. He was going to feel whatever he was feeling whether she tried to cheer him up or not.

"I love her so much, Kate," he said, lips screwing this way and that as he tried to stamp down the tears. He took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and brought their hands to his lips so he could brush a kiss on the back of hers. "Thank you, though, for trying. When I get out of here -"

She knew what he meant. When he got out of there, the first stop on his list was to see Alexis, make amends, do whatever it took to get his little girl back, and damn if she didn't love him even more for that. The way he was with Alexis is what first drew her to him and thought of him as more than a millionaire playboy. It was heartwarming, and touching, and fucking sexy as hell. _Because a father would do anything for his little girl, _he had once said, and Beckett believed him, without question. "Yes, we'll get you a cheeseburger and then we can go over if you want," she teased.

Castle moaned. "Well, that's just as bad as taunting me with coffee I can't have, detective. What kind of interrogation techniques are these?"

She laughed. "The kind where you open your soul to me and let me see what's inside." She paused, watched their fingers dancing together. "You'll get Alexis back, Rick. Daughters always need their fathers. I can vouch for that." And just like that, hope was restored in his eyes, or was it tears? Both. He nodded his head at her, and she kissed him. "Now, tell me how you're really doing?"

"I'm fine," he answered.

"You _are_ a terrible liar, Castle." She had him dead to rights, and she knew it when he looked away. He hummed, had nothing to say that would contradict what she just said. "If you're in pain, I can -?" she thumbed towards the nurses station. She could ask for better meds, or something that would help.

"No." Castle shook his head. "It's… I'm fine."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Must be that _wild_ imagination of yours. Kate, I'm fine," he said once more, looking at her intently, hoping that she would believe him this time. She didn't. However, she let it drop, for now. "I love you." She gave him that megawatt smile that was reserved only for him. "And... Thanks."

"What for?" The smile turned into a look of confusion.

"Oh, you know… not making me feel any worse about this."

Beckett tilted her head. "I'm a wiseass, not a jackass," she said, quoting Castle himself from all those years ago. "Is that what's bothering you? That you think _I_ will think less of you because of this? Castle -"

"Crazy, I know, right? Like I said. I'm fine. It's fine." He was perfectly willing to suppress the feelings and take a chance that they would blow over as soon as he was home.

"No, hey. There was nothing you could have done. This isn't your fault, and you couldn't have known what was inside the mouth of that carving."

"Yeah, well…" he looked away from her, swallowing thickly, "mouths have _teeth_. I should have known better."

Beckett flinched at the venom in Castle's voice, venom towards himself, but it was the thought that had her eyes closing. It seemed her momentary worry as Castle stuck his hand into the orifice hadn't been unfounded, but even she hadn't expected _teeth_. It seemed so logical.

"The doctor said I might not… that my hand…" he swallowed the lump in his throat.

_Oh crap,_ she thought to herself. He'd spoken to his doctor. She had hoped she'd've been there for that particular conversation. "Shh. I know. We can't worry about that right now, Castle. I'm just so glad that you're _here_."

"Me, too," came a small voice from the door. Beckett twisted to look and saw one Alexis Castle standing there, looking small, like a frightened little girl.

* * *

**A/N: I knew some people would take issue with Alexis not going to the hospital, and I had this chapter written before I even posted the other one, just so you all know, so... you can't yell at me anymore. :P **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

"Alexis!"

Castle almost squealed in delight, and Beckett turned to look at him with a tipped eyebrow. Now there was that 9 year old on a sugar rush that she had been starting to miss. _So sexy_,she couldn't help thinking and got off the bed. She pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and smiled. "I'm just going to be outside. Maybe get myself a -" It almost slipped out; it was so natural to want a coffee in her hand.

"Yes?"

"Hem… Orange juice."

"Nice save," he said as Beckett reached for her abandoned cup of coffee. "Can you leave it? I like the smell." His blue eyes were pleading with her, playing on her emotions.

For a second, she was tempted to give in and let it sit there and be his air freshener, but this was Castle she was looking at. "No," she said coyly. "Castle, I know you. You'll drink it, so no. I'll see about maybe getting you some jello, or something, though." Beckett did her best to ignore the pout he was giving her. Coffee in hand, she gave Alexis a tight smile and closed the door on her way out. She looked at Castle longingly through the window for a moment before bowing her head and disappearing down the hall in search of a sink to waste the perfectly scalding bog sludge - also known as hospital coffee. A promise was a promise.

And then there was two. Castle looked at his daughter, awkward silence settling over the both of them. The beeping of the heart rate monitor attracted Alexis' attention. Words were lost to the both of them, but relief filled them both at the same time, the second their eyes connected. "I'm glad you're here, pumpkin."

"I wasn't going to," Alexis said, stepping closer, but remained just out of reach. "When Kate told me, I was just so angry still, and I wasn't going to come. I _want_ to be angry at you, and Dad, you deserve it," she said forcefully. She looked down at the floor, trying to find words for everything she was feeling. "But when she left… I regretted not going with her instantly. I wanted to go with her when she told me, but… I thought I was being strong… _firm_… By the time I got to the curb, she was already pulling away and it was just too late."

Castle cleared his throat, a certain amount of guilt welling up inside him. "And what made you change your mind?"

"Something I told you a long time ago," she said, stepping closer and taking his hand in her own. "No matter how old I am, I'll always be your little girl." At Castle's smile, she added, "doesn't mean I'm not still mad, though."

"Understood."

"Kate was right. I mean, she didn't say it out loud, but I could see it in her eyes."

"What didn't she say?"

"'_Where are your priorities?_' She says a lot without actually saying it."

"She's a jedi like that. Learned from the best." Obviously, he meant himself, but in truth, Beckett was already a master before he had even met her. The way she got suspects to crack with just a look, it did it for him every time.

Alexis merely nodded, because Beckett was very good at what she did. "More like an evil Sith Lord," she muttered childishly under her breath. "No matter how mad I am at you for not respecting the choices I'm making, I love you, dad. What's going on between us… it's on hold until you get out of here. And then I am going right back to being mad at you. Got it?"

"I'll take what I can get." Despite their truce, he was already plotting to make Alexis forgive him before he was sprung from the hospital. He couldn't go back to having her angry at him for simply loving her enough, for caring too much. Was what he did so wrong? Wasn't it some sort of right of passage for father's to detest the first boy their daughters move in with? Beckett's father did, she had said.

The redhead took a seat on the stool, hand touching her father's. "So, what happened? How bad is… _it_?" she gestured to the wrapped up arm.

"Beckett didn't tell you?"

"No. I expect she just didn't want to worry me," she replied on a shrug. How was she supposed to know what went on in the mind of New York's finest detective? Not even a highly detailed map could help figure her out.

"I guess I should start at the beginning then." And he did, regaling his tale with a heroic twist. If not him, it would have been Beckett (50% chance it might not have been). He took it like a man - didn't scream (he did). He didn't pass out (he did). His life didn't flash before his eyes (it did). Alexis saw through everything he was telling her. Twenty plus years meant something. She knew him and what his crazy stories were like, what his tells where, but she let him have this, because from the details he'd given her, from the look on Beckett's face earlier, she just _knew_ there was more to the story then they were telling her.

* * *

Beckett came back into the room after visiting hours had started again. Martha had taken Alexis to get something to eat at Castle's insistence, and even tried to talk his fiancee into going, too, but she had eaten half a bagel earlier and was perfectly happy to stay by his side and keep him company while the redheads went out. They sat in quiet companionship. He drifted in and out of sleep every so often, which she felt was more than acceptable. She'd rather see him resting than lying there considering his hand, allowing his writers imagination run away with him.

Forty minutes later, he was awake again. "Starring's creepy," he said, chuckling.

"Yeah, well… I learn from the best," she replied, perching on his bed. "Nurse just brought you some jello."

Castle glanced at the tray, a bowl of red jello and he nodded his head. He could go for some jello. There was always room for jello.

"How's your arm?" she asked, picking up the spoon and scooped up some of the wriggly substance.

"Throbbing." He accepted the spoonful and and sighed contentedly, sinking back further into his pillow.

"Do you want me to get a nurse?" she asked, instantly on alert.

He shook his head, swallowing. "Why? I have a nurse." He gave her a victorious smile when she scrunched her face up. "You gotta put on that slutty nurse costume for me, though."

"Castle, I don't have a slutty nurse costume."

"I could get you one."

Beckett clucked her tongue, and in a sultry voice said, "We'll talk."

"Wow, _really?_"

Oh, those eyes lit up again, dancing with excitement. Of course, she had been joking. She wasn't the biggest fan of cosplay, and she certainly didn't see a need for it in their relationship when every touch of his set fire to her skin without even trying. Sitting there with a spoonful of jello in her hand, she couldn't take away that juvenile giddiness he was oozing. She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was so excited at the prospect of her in costumes. "Fine," she acquiesced and gave him a bashful smile, a little giggle at the back of her throat.

"Best fiancee, ever."

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle." She guided another spoonful towards his mouth.

"Kate," he said, turning his mouth away from the offered food just enough that she stopped.. "I can feed myself." He was torn, really, between the sharp tingles that ran up and down his spine everytime Beckett did something nice for him, and his wounded pride. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be seen differently in her eyes now.

Beckett looked at the spoon. She had just acted on pure instinct. It wasn't meant to suggest that he couldn't hold a spoon himself. His left hand was still perfectly capable of doing everything it had done before. She looked at him intently for a moment, considering his words and emotional pain, and shook her head gently. "That's not what this is," she stated, butterflies suddenly swarming in her stomach. She set the spoon back down in the dish and clasped her hands together between her thighs in a fit of irrational nervousness. She looked down trying to keep her panic down. The last thing she wanted was to insult Castle; not now.

The question of '_Then what is it?'_ hung unsaid in the air and Beckett sighed heavily. "I just…" she hesitated, fumbling for the right words. "Castle…" No, that didn't feel right, either. "_Rick._" Better. "You've taken such good care of me over the years, y'know? Even when I didn't know it was you pulling the strings." She looked up at him, eyes welling with memories, and with such love and devotion for him that was so devastating she couldn't think straight half the time she was around him. "I just want to take care of you, Castle. Is that _so_ wrong? It's okay to let me."

Looking down at his hands on his lap, all he could do was nod, at a loss for words. Beckett reached a hand under his chin. Tilting his head up and towards her, she claimed his lips, pouring her soul into his mouth. She moaned into it, was thankful for it, loved every second of it. She rested her forehead on his after, bumped her nose against his. Her hands trailed along his jaw, and curled around his ears. "Please, let me."

Castle swallowed the lump in his throat, slightly out of breath from the kiss. She was really good at that; it was like a drug. "Well, okay, but only if you kiss me like that again."

Beckett giggled and went for it, tasting the jello on his tongue so thoroughly. "Mmm." She pulled away all too soon for his liking. He watched her reaching for the spoon and he felt it again, the desperate need to remind her that he could take care of himself. That he was more than her screw-up fiance. He still had a good hand. He stomped it down, and when the spoon came his way, he obediently opened his mouth.

And the cycle repeated itself until the small dish was empty and Beckett set the spoon down. She had a small smile on her face, her love for him welling with each spoonful. She looked at him after that, just watched and considered him and what he must be feeling, and he watched her back until she broke the silence. "Do you want to watch TV?"

"No," he answered on a whisper.

"We can play cards?" He shook his head. "Scrabble?" Another shake of his head.

"Okay. You can just continue to stare at me creepily?"

"'Kay."

"Castle, you okay?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure how I'm feeling right now… but, Kate, you should get some sleep," he deflected. Shoving over a bit, he made room for her to come up onto the bed. She shook her head at him, declining his offer.

"I can't fit in there with you," she laughed, but he was giving her those puppy eyes that made her heart melt. She narrowed her eyes at him, but resigned herself to his wishes. After all, he'd already moved over, and maybe she might be able to slip in there next to him and mold her body to his perfectly. She climbed up next to him on her side, shifted closer to him and draped one of her legs over his. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her to keep her from falling off the edge.

"Comfortable?" he inquired, looking down at the crown of her head, her caramel locks tickling his nose. She _hummed_ comfortably, wrapping her arm around his middle, anchoring her to him. "Go to sleep, Kate."

She looked out the window, no intention of falling asleep. She'd stay there until she felt his breathing even out, and then she'd delicately extract herself. She'd done it before in their bed, woken from a nightmare or two, and she didn't want to disturb him. It was a challenge, she'd found. He was quite the cuddler. She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of him, mixed with the sanitary smell of the hospital, but Castle was still there, radiating heat.

Castle's breathing evened out before long, and the corners of her mouth curled upward. After Castle had fallen to sleep, Beckett followed. The door behind her opened and she didn't even hear it.

Martha smiled, and nudged Alexis back towards the cafeteria.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and your support of the story! More to come!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Complications**

Beckett had eventually gone home and packed a bag for Castle the night before he was to be released from the hospital. She smiled to herself as he packed a pair of boxers, and tossed in a pair of jeans. Oh, she loved the way this navy blue shirt looked on him, and it quickly joined the jeans in the bag. Toothbrush and toothpaste followed. _Socks!_ she thought to herself last minute as she pulled on the zipper. Rushing to his drawer, she grabbed a pair, and a pair of shoes, too, and added them to the bag.

She slept in their bed that night, not only at his insistence, but Martha and Alexis's, too. She'd agreed, but only because she needed to pack a bag for him. Their bed still smelled like him, and it was all encompassing. She sighed to herself, rolling over to his side of the bed, and it was there she slept until the wee hours of the morning when her phone alarm went off and she had to roll back to her side to reach it.

After clearing her schedule with Gates for the rest of the day, she promised to be back to work tomorrow, wanting to get Castle settled at home without disruption. She got into Castle's mercedes and drove to the Hospital, grumbling impatiently when she was caught in traffic for well over an hour.

As she moved through the hospital, she was about to board the elevator when she heard her name. "Kate?" Turning, she searched for the voice it belonged to, and her eyes went wide in surprise. "Wow, I thought that was you."

"Josh…" Beckett let out a nervous chuckle and suddenly, everything felt so awkward. "Uh… You're… back."

"Yeah. Can't save the world 24/7," he quipped with a shrug. "It's good to be home."

"The amazon, right?"

He hummed in response. "So, what are you doing here?" Josh looked her up and down in such a manner that was both appreciative, and confirming that she wasn't shot again.

It actually made her feel uncomfortable, but she didn't show it, opting for the stoney detective face she had mastered years ago. "Oh, um, Castle… there was an accident," she explained vaguely with a shrug, because it was awkward enough.

"So, you're still letting him follow you around like a lovesick puppy?"

It was the verbal equivalent to a fist in the face, and the friendly smile that Beckett had been wearing disappeared quickly. "I don't _let_ him follow me around," she responded. However, it was true. She could tell him she didn't want him in harms way anymore, and he might accept that. She had a say in whether or not he was there by her side every day. "I _want_ him around; there's a difference. He's my partner."

"Until he gets you shot again."

Frustrated, Beckett rolled her eyes. "You know what, we're done here." She pressed the elevator button again, growing more irritated when the elevator didn't seem to be coming any faster.

Josh took an imposing step closer to her, arms crossed over his chest. "Don't be an idiot, Kate. You know it's true."

She threw a glare in his direction. "It's _Beckett_." Sure, it may have seemed a little harsh. She did break his heart once upon a time, but she couldn't stand there and reason with herself that maybe he was a _little_ justified in being mad. All she knew was that she was _extremely_ justified in wanting to kick him between the legs and it was taking all her restraint not to do so.

She left him there after that, turning towards the stairs. Fuck the elevator, and fuck Josh. He just didn't understand the hell it took for the two of them to get to where they were, or what it took for Castle to get her to _live_ again. She didn't need to waste another thought on someone who couldn't be made to understand.

* * *

Arriving on the third floor, Beckett headed down the corridor towards Castle's private room. It took her all of three flights of stairs to forget about Josh and look forward to seeing Castle's ruggedly handsome face. Being away from him all night was agony, and each step she took took, the quicker she was moving, not getting to his room nearly fast enough. She kept thinking to herself that he was coming home today, couldn't have been more happy. The bench outside was empty, and she figured maybe Martha and Alexis were inside, but when she opened the door, Castle was lying in his bed alone.

Frowning, she closed the door behind her and set the bag down off to the side. Then, the upside hit her, and the frown was instantly turned upside down. No Martha or Alexis meant quality alone time with her fiance, even though there would undoubtedly be plenty of that when they returned to the loft. She drew nearer to the bed, but he was sleeping. Hand trailing up his arm, she looked at him, admired him, but then her breath hitched, lodged in the back of her throat.

"Castle?" Looking more closely, she could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and her hand trailed up to his face, feeling how hot his skin was to the touch. Worry flooded her system, both hands grasping his face, trying to rouse him. "Castle!" Tapping his cheeks, she grew more fearful when he didn't respond to her. Frantic, she reached for the button next to his pillow and pressed it several times more than was necessary. Dropping it, she went back to trying to get Castle to wake up. "Come on, babe. Wake up."

Hand on his forehead, she worried her bottom lip. The door opened, and she looked over her shoulder at the nurse. "He's got a fever, and he's not responding."

Being asked to leave the room by the doctors wasn't an easy thing to hear, and was worse when she actually had to back out of the room at the insistence of the nurse and watch from the small window on the door as the doctor fussed over her fiance. The doctor was in her line of sight, but she couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from the man's back and sit down on the bench to wait for the news. She brought her hand to her mouth, keeping her worry stuck in her throat. Helplessness seemed to have become her new best friend. She wasn't used to this feeling; didn't like it one bit, either.

As doctors and equipment started to come to and from the room, Beckett was asked to move to the waiting area. Protests died within her, rationalizing that an argument wouldn't help her other half, and so she moved, grimacing as she did. In the waiting room, she paced like a caged animal for a good fifteen minutes before she saw Martha and Alexis coming from the cafeteria. "Where've you been!" she demanded to know on their approach.

"Grams and I were having breakfast. Dad was still asleep," Alexis answered, but could see clearly Beckett's feral attitude oozing from every pore.

"Katherine?" Martha prompted.

"You said you were going to be with him the _whole_ time. You said-" she stopped herself there. Blame games were not needed, and she took a literal step back from the two and went back to pacing, breathing heavily through her nostrils.

"Kate, what is it?" Martha tried again.

"He's not waking up," she choked out, halting and hanging her head. "He's got a fever. Must be over one-oh-two, at _least_."

"Oh dear," Martha said, heading for Castle's room.

"They won't let you," Beckett stopped her with a shake of her head.

Martha nodded her head, looking back at Beckett. She understood that if the contrary were true, the young woman wouldn't be there now, wearing a hole in the floor in record time. She seemed like a bull, ready to charge towards the bullseye and knock out everyone in her way.

While they were all there to support each other, neither red head asked the detective to sit down and give the floor a break. They knew how useless that would be, but Martha guided Alexis to a chair, and sat down with her, hand in hand, exchanging support for support.

Too much time was passing, a couple of hours at least, before the double doors opened and the doctor stepped out. She was on him like a hungry wolf. "Well?"

"Sepsis," came his answer. "An infection in his blood causing widespread inflammation. His blood pressure is low, and some vital organs are at risk. We've got him on antibiotics, and we've moved him up to the ICU, so we can better monitor his progress."

"But, he was doing well," Martha chimed in from behind Beckett, and she moved out of the way so the redhead could speak with the doctor, but she was still listening intently, eager for any little tidbit of information.

"The equipment that pierced Mr. Castle's forearm were _old,_ ancient_._ We've had concerns from the beginning about infection, and we thought we had it under control, but from what Ms Beckett here has told me… he was trapped in that wall for the better part of an hour, add to that how long it took us to get those spikes out of his arm without causing further damage. That is plenty of time for an infection to spread."

"How is he?" Beckett asked impatiently.

"I won't lie to you. Your fiance is not good. I'm sorry, I wish I had better news. We've got him settled upstairs, but, we're limiting visitors to only one. I'm sorry. I know you all would like to be next to him for support, but-"

"We understand," Martha said, nodding her head.

The doctor excused himself politely and took a step back, letting the family draw proverbial straws.

"Katherine, go ahead," the elder woman encouraged.

Beckett looked at Alexis, shaking her head, knowing that perhaps his daughter ought to go up first. "Martha, I-"

"Kate, it's okay," Alexis nodded, knowing deep down she wasn't ready to see her father upstairs. Already, she could feel her emotions coiling inside her, worse than they ever had before, and she needed time to reign them in and get them under control. "I'll stay with grams."

Beckett looked between the two, stunned and warmed by their support. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said the only thing she could, "Thank you." Turning, she followed the doctor without preamble.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry the update is late! My bad... I was just busy meeting Nathan Fillion and getting his awesome autograph! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

Beckett stood in the elevator, arms crossed in front of her, head bowed, heart racing furiously in her chest. Her jaw clenched tightly, and the elevator was too slow! She was shaking. It was uncommon for the detective who could stare down the worst of suspects, but the emotional rollercoaster that was Castle changed her. Too many times in the last couple of months alone, she had seen him in a way she never wanted to see again. She couldn't bear the thought that he was knocking on Death's door, and worse that the door might actually open and he'd be invited in for tea. And if Castle went in, there was no leaving.

The taste in the back of her throat was repulsive. She looked at the doctor's back, the man who held her whole future in his hands, and wondered was this the right person to see things through? After all, he was just so young, but for all he knew, maybe he was just blessed with youthful good looks. _Ugh_. Beckett flicked her gaze down again. The doors eventually chimed open and she obediently followed the doctor into the ICU. Sounds assaulted her ears all at once. A dull chatter, monitors chirping heart rates, ventilators, a quiet sob here and there from family members standing guard over their loved ones… and then there was Castle, tucked into a corner. The doctor pulled back the curtain and Beckett felt her lack of breakfast rising.

She inhaled sharply at the sight of him, but it was too much. She leaned over, hands on her knees, breathing heavily to keep the bile down, to get herself under control. "Oh, God. You didn't tell me he was on a ventilator." There was no question, and she didn't need to be told why. Everything the doctor said after that fell on deaf ears. She caught the words, '_lungs' _and '_compromised'_, but nothing else registered. The sound of the machine breathing for Castle was unnerving and consistent, unlike her own breathing, rapid and uncontrolled. She straightened up, stepped into the small corner that was Castle's and watched his chest rise and fall, dictated by the machine next to him.

She wasn't aware of Doctor Michaels leaving to give her a moment to be with Castle. He must have realized that she had zoned out on him. All she could focus on was the tube in his mouth, running down his throat, callously taped in place. She had seen him like this once before, hooked up to life support while the toxins had ravaged his system. It felt like she was reliving her worst nightmare twice over. Her hand grazed over his stomach, grasping as it rose suddenly, but it told her he was still alive, if only just barely. Tears fell, she couldn't help it. Leaning down slowly, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and rested her ear upon his chest, listening for his heartbeat. Her hands clutched at his sides, and her head rose and fell in time with his solid chest.

He was pale, a light sheen of perspiration still on his forehead. Beckett closed her eyes, imagining he was simply too deep in sleep to respond to her advances. Better times, but they always circled back to this. "Please don't do this to me, babe," she pleaded, hoping her words would help keep him tethered to her. "You're strong. You're a fighter, and you're not done here." Her thumbs stroked his sides, knowing he was ticklish along his ribcage with just the right amount of pressure, but instead of receiving his reactive chuckle, all she got was the sound of the ventilator and his chest expanding.

Beckett was trying to be strong, but it was weighing down on her heavily. The feeling of _failure_ was overcoming her resolve. She thought back to last night before she left the hospital, lying in the hospital bed with him, feeling the warmth radiating off him. He was better last night, he was supposed to be on his way home now… Swallowing the lump in her throat, a whimper escaped. "Please, don't do this to us."

She pulled away from him some time later, noting that his hospital shirt was wet from her tears. Her back cracked as she straightened up and grabbed one of the stools on wheels. Right up next to his bed, Beckett held his hand between her own. "I… I'm not sure what I am supposed to do here," she told him. Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand. "They say talking to you is supposed to help-well, it couldn't hurt, really-but I just… Castle, you're the writer. You're the one with the words that keep me grounded." Hazel eyes were red with her tears, the thought of losing him this way making her feel ill. "I suppose I could give it a shot…"

Beckett took a deep breath, exhaled in time with the ventilator. "Once upon a time…" she chuckled, shaking her head and looking down. "There was a young woman, and she used to have such a great outlook on life. Good school, loving parents, the whole nine yards except for the fact that she had to wear braces for a while. Despite the fact that she was teased occasionally in school because of them, she was still a happy-go-lucky kid. Just as she was embracing adulthood, tragedy struck. You already know that story, though." Gathering her words, she ran her hand through his hair. It didn't matter how many times she had already done that over the last few days. It was something that kept her grounded in the meantime until his words could wash over her soul again, like a healing balm.

"Some weeks after the funeral, she had descended into this whirlwind of personal hell. She stopped going to school. Somehow, dreaming of becoming a lawyer just didn't matter anymore, and her father had found solace in alcohol. The young woman, was poking through her mother's things one day, and she was crying and contemplating other avenues of escape. It's not something she's proud of, and definitely not something she's shared with _anyone_. I mean, suicide repulsed her, but there was a time when she thought it would be easier."

Beckett shook her head in shame. The story didn't have anything to do with anything, other than the fact that it was something she had kept hidden from her fiance. "She sat down at her mother's desk in her office. Papers were still all over the place. Her mother certainly had her own filing system. Being in that room, it felt as if that was the closest she would ever get to her mother again. It seemed like the proper spot, y'know? She wasn't thinking clearly, that much was certain, especially of her father and how much worse things would have been for him. Again, it's not something she's proud of, and the thought only rested in her mind for that one night.

"She was sitting in her mother's chair, looking around the office, taking in _everything_. Memorizing it all over again. And her eyes land on the bookshelves. She's seen those shelves thousands of times, of course, but now it felt like she was seeing them for the first time. There was one book sitting on the shelf that she'd seen her mother reading many times. It was well loved, for sure. Drawn to it, she picked it up, brought it close, inhaled the musty scent, mixed with her mother's."

The detective sighed heavily, didn't bother trying to wipe her tears away. "She'd never had any interest in this author before. Never bothered to crack open the cover to see if she could become as addicted as her mother had. She cracked it open then, though, wanting nothing more than to connect with her mother again, somehow. She finished that book in one night, and while she felt connected to her mother again for a brief time, she found another connection... to the characters, but more than that… to the imagery. The author had created something so wonderful that she had _forgotten_, if only for a night, the pain she was in. She understood why her mother loved the books so, why when she came home after school, she would normally find her mother curled up on a couch reading.

"It was early in the morning, an ungodly hour, and it didn't matter that she had just spent the whole night reading. She eagerly grabbed the next book and read until she fell asleep in her mother's office. She changed that night, no doubt of it. The author _saved_ her life without knowing it, without even knowing she existed. She owes him so much, he doesn't even understand.

"One day, after graduating from the police academy, determined to find justice for her mother, she hears that the author of those wonderful books she loves so much is going to be downtown at a book signing, but damnit, she was on shift that night, but her partner was a good guy, covered for her. She was at the end of the line, last customer of the night, and she bit down on her bottom lip wondering if the line facilitators would cut off the line before she could get up to his table and even lay eyes on the man.

"But the author, he was something special. He stuck around until the very last fan had his autograph and welcoming, appreciative smile. She wanted to stand there and tell him how he'd saved her life, wondering if it would justify her fanaticism in his eyes, but when she got up there, she froze. He was so handsome, and his smile made her melt. She knew he was probably tired, his hand cramping. He asked her '_Who can I make this out to?'_ and she just smiled, because she was shaking with such nervousness she wasn't accustomed to. '_Kate,'_ she answered. '_You can make it out to Kate.'_ Their exchange was nothing more than that, but it was still perfect to her, and her copy of _In A Hail Of Bullets_, rather it's her mother's old copy, but it now has a special place on her shelf.

"Castle," she breathed, watching him, wondering if he could hear her. "You saved my life. You can add that to your scorecard." Laughing, she shook her head, still slightly disbelieving of the fact that he had been keeping score of all their saves. She didn't like the fact that she was willingly offering him up more ammunition against her, but if it helped, she had no regrets about sharing this part of herself with him, and if he didn't remember when he woke, she promised herself she would share it with him. "But, you're not done saving my life. You save my life every day. I need you here."

Her eyes were drawn to the monitor, watching the line of his heartbeat. There was nothing more to do than to just sit there and _be_. Nurses came and went, offering her nothing more than a sad smile or two, and unsurprisingly, she spotted Josh a couple of times, checking in on his patients. When she caught him staring for the third time, anger flared up, she let go of Castle's hand and pulled the curtains closed, shutting him and his negativity away from her. Neither she, nor Castle, needed that in their lives right now.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she looked around at nothing. The curtains didn't provide her with complete privacy, but the nurse probably wouldn't be back for another ten minutes or so. Knowing she wasn't supposed to have her phone on in the ICU, she looked down to see Gina's name. She didn't want to deal with the publisher right now, but her thumb hit the answer button anyway, and she brought the phone to her ear. "Beckett," she said quietly.

"_Kate, is it true?!"_ came Gina's frantic voice. "_About Rick! It's in the paper!"_

"Uh, yeah, it's true, Gina…" she answered, running a hand through her hair, wondering how Gina had even found out about the accident.

"_So… he's really… gone?"_

"Wait, gone? What do you mean gone?" She looked at Castle, because _yes_, he was still there, she also may have done a double take, as though he could disappear within the blink of an eye.

"_It's in the paper, Kate! _Richard Castle, bestselling writer of the Nikki Heat series, killed in the line of duty while consulting with the NYPD," Gina read from the headlines. "_There's a picture of him being loaded into the ambulance."_

"Oh my God," Beckett rolled her eyes; those fucking tourists. "No, no, Gina. He's alive. I'm looking right at him."

"_I want to talk to him,_" Gina said, relief lacing her voice.

Beckett cringed. "Gina, he can't. He's unconscious. They have him on life support. There was an accident yesterday, and he's developed an infection. It's serious, but… he's not gone. He's going to pull through." _He has to._

"_Keep me in the loop."_ It was almost a demand. "_I'll have a retraction printed. We'll set the record straight. Take care of him."_

"I'm trying." The call was disconnected after that, and just as the phone was replaced into her pocket, the nurse opened the curtains, ready to complete her rounds.

* * *

**A/N: So, meeting Nathan Fillion. Someone asked what it was like… I guess it's storytime with CaskettFeels, so everyone take a seat and get comfortable. I saw his panel first, and he's a pretty funny guy. If you ever have a chance to see his panels, or even watch them on youtube, you should do it. Oddly, IRL, he reminds me of Castle, anyway. So, you know you're in for a good hour of Fillion fun. **

**So, FanExpo Canada (in Toronto) is… crazy. Busy, nuts, hotter than hell, shoulder to shoulder with everyone. I'm about to get in line to meet him, and damnit, they're cutting off the line so he can go to lunch at around 2pm. ARGH. Okay, fine. I wander off to get my own lunch because I haven't eaten since the day before. So, I come back at around 3:30pm (and believe it or not, I was in line for food for 40 minutes. But, I've got food in my belly and I'm happy again and I rejoin the line. I'm waiting in line for a while, too. Lots of people want his autograph. Not surprising.**

**So, I had been undecided of what to have him sign. I bought a Jason Palmer poster for the cast of Castle (you can google it), and I also bought an image of Nathan, and it's a crossover of Mal/Rick. He's wearing the brown jacket, and pointing his gun, all the while, is wearing his WRITER's vest underneath. It's quite nice.**

**Anyway, I was so undecided, because I had also brought a copy of Heat Wave in hardcover for him to sign initially. I'm next. I drop my $80 on the table, and there are like… 20 different images of him there to sign. So, now I have to decide between what I bought/brought and these 20 photos. OMG. So hard. I decide to get him to sign the Jason Palmer image (which is signed by the artist, too). I'm about to go up to Nathan, and I look at his assistant, and I'm like… 'You know what, I'll take that photo', and it's a nice one of Nathan sitting on a tombstone that says CASTLE. **

**I go up to him, he's smiling (which you would think he'd be exhausted by now), asked me what my name was. He shakes my hand, and even I'm trembling. I say, 'You, sir, are amazing.' I tell him my name, and he says the blue shirt I am wearing really makes the color of my eyes pop (they are also blue). Naturally, I'm sooooo blushing, right? He's got the photo in front of him now, and he's like 'Can I sign this for you?' So fucking adorable. I say, yes, please. **

**Then… I show him the tattoo I have on my arm, which says ALWAYS along the length of my forearm (naturally with the quill going through the A and blood-ink at the bottom. His reaction… priceless. "WHOA! Is that a real tattoo?!" I tell him, yup, and I read out the script I have in there, too, which is actually a line I had gotten from fanfiction somewhere. LOL. **

**ANYWAY. He was impressed, or judging me. Who knows. But, it was a pleasure to meet him, and I gave him puppy eyes and asked him for a favor - would he also be kind enough to sign my copy of Heat Wave? He did. He totally did. *fangirls***

**Then I went on my merry way.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: **

**Few days later.**

Beckett came into the hospital, all smiles. Castle was improved and she couldn't wait to get him home, but he was still on life support. His fever broke, what amazing news! When the time came, she was going to force him to take it easy, rest in bed for a while, and care for him the way he deserved to be cared for. She stepped into the lobby of the hospital, the morning sun lighting up the room, adding brightness to a place often associated with darkness.

She hit the button for the elevator and waited with more patience than she had for the entire past week and a half. Suddenly, a hand touched her shoulder and she startled, turning to face the person. She recognized him immediately. "Lieutenant!"

"Detective," he smiled back at her, a megawatt smile that showed his pearly whites. He deserved to be on the firefighters calendar, that was certain.

"I was just helping a car accident victim, saw you… thought I would inquire. How is your partner?"

"He's doing better. A lot better now," she replied while nodding her head and crossing her arms over her chest, a small smile on her face, because _yes, finally_ he was better and there was as much light at the end of the tunnel as there was in the lobby. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Davis. Jonathan Davis." Taking her hand, they shook. "I was wondering, if perhaps you'd be interested in having dinner with me on Friday."

Beckett's eyes went wide and she released his hand. Whatever she had been expecting from this random act of kindness - checking in on her partner and the like - this wasn't it. This was more of an act of selfishness, and his concern for her partner was now just a reason to talk to her in the first place. "Ah… I - I'm flattered, truly, Jonathan…" Already, the hopeful expression on his face was falling. "But, um…" With that, she flashed her left hand and let the engagement ring speak for itself.

Jonathan raised his hands in surrender, backing away. "Understood," he said.

"But thank you… and thank you for saving my fiance's life."

"Just part of the job," he said, and turned around to leave and rejoin his crew on the fire engine.

Smiling to herself, the elevator chimed behind her and she stepped on it. The doors closed, and she watched the firefighter until she couldn't anymore. She felt terrible for crushing the huge smile he'd had on his face, but she was spoken for, and she eagerly looked forward to stepping into the ICU and wandering towards Castle's bed. She knew the route like the back of her hand by now.

He was still unconscious, but the message from Alexis had said the doctors expected him to wake up soon, very soon. When she read that text, she rushed through her shower and the rest of her morning routine. Alexis and Martha had taken off for breakfast and promised they would return in the afternoon after getting some rest themselves. They had worked out a schedule between the three of them, making certain that Castle would have someone with him always. "Good morning, babe," she said, perching on the side of his bed.

Her hands ran over him, up his chest, along his neck, cupping his face. "Come on, Castle. Today's the day. It's time to wake up and come back to me. And we're going going to start seriously planning our wedding. Venues, dresses, guest lists, food, our vows, all of it."

It was about an hour later when she caught the flutter of his eyes, the twitch of his body, the fight against the tube down the back of his throat, dictating his breath at a pace he no longer agreed with. The stool she had been sitting on when wheeling away somewhere when she jumped up and hovered over him. "Babe, it's okay, it's okay. Don't fight it," she murmured, pushing his good hand back down on the bed. When he attempted to move his right, no longer in its cast for ease of access, his cry of pain was muffled. "Be still, babe. Be still. Shhhh, it's okay. CAN I GET SOME HELP OVER HERE?" she called over her shoulder.

It wasn't long before the tube was being removed and he was left consistently clearing his throat uncomfortably. He was checked over, practically from head to toe, and Beckett's patience was wearing thin. After being told to be mindful of the catheter, she winced sympathetically for him.

The doctor wandered off, and Castle turned his head towards her tiredly. She didn't care how tired he was. She was just happy he was awake again. "You do that to me again, and I'm going to shoot you, okay?"

"Okay," he rasped in response, nodding his head. "Hi." Inhaling deeply, it felt good to have control again.

"Do you have any idea what you've been through in the last few days?"

"Think so," he replied, keeping his words limited. Swallowing, he offered her a smile. It was meant to be reassuring, but it wasn't. "No?" he offered up at the look she was giving him. He closed his eyes on an exhale, reveling in the feeling of her hand in his hair. It was comforting, seeing her in a place that was unfamiliar to him, white and sterile.

Beckett shook her head, weighed down by her guilt that she'd been carrying since this all started. She kept it buried deep. "We're going to get you home soon enough." Castle hummed his response. "Wow… sleeping all day must make you very tired," she teased, and he hummed again, falling further away from her. She didn't mind his lack of response to her good humour, hand roaming through his hair, and he hummed yet again, making her smile at his appreciation. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and let him fall into natural sleep. His breathing evened out.

* * *

**One week later.**

"How does it feel to finally be sprung?" Beckett asked. She stood between his legs as he sat on the bed and was buttoning up his navy blue shirt for him. She sighed as more and more of his skin was being covered up, expertly by her small fingers, but she couldn't wait to get him home and perhaps unwrap him all over again.

"Good," Castle replied, smiling, watching her face, head bowed just slightly, focused on her fingers as they danced from one button to the next until she reached his collar bone and stopped there.

Her hands smoothed along his shoulders, a wry grin forming on her face. "Tucked in or not?"

Her sultry voice sent shivers running up and down his spine. She was so good at that. Getting him into his jeans hadn't been the easiest of tasks, and the whiny side to him had shown itself for a short time, but it was nowhere near as difficult than the time he had broken his knee. There was something else, though, and Beckett could only admit to herself that it worried her. There were moments when he would get this look in his eyes, a look that made her want to take a step back, but she couldn't. She didn't know whether it was just the embarrassment, or something else entirely, but she knew that accepting help him her in _this_ manner was dealing a huge blow to his pride.

"Untucked," he said after a moment.

The mischievous glint in her eyes vanished, and she nodded her head. _Understood._ She had thought he would have been all over the idea of having her hands down his pants, but there was that look in his eyes again, and it was pulling her heart apart. She hoped he would be able to move beyond it; he'd accepted her help once before when he'd broken his knee, he could do it again.

She ran her hands down his arms, halting at the elbow on his right where the new cast began (already there was a signature on it from his mother), then moved to smooth out the edges of his shirt at his waist. Picture perfect. She fixed his hair, making sure it was parted just right for him. "I love you, Kate."

His tone, his words stopped her movement and her eyes met his and everything was still. He was such a sweet, sweet man, and he didn't deserve this, and she certainly didn't deserve his devotion, loyalty and love. She continued to stand between his legs, hazel eyes locked on target with ocean blue and she swallowed the emotional lump in her throat. "I love you, too, babe," she responded in a whisper, and kissed him. Moments alone like this weren't meant to last, and true to form, the door to his room opened.

"Is he decent yet?" Martha asked.

"Yes, Mother," Castle muttered, rolling his eyes apologetically towards Beckett.

"Oh, good," she said gleefully and stepped in, followed by Alexis who was pushing a wheelchair.

"Oh, no. Guys, it's my arm. Not my legs. I can walk out of here just fine." Even though he knew it was procedure, it felt wrong not to challenge it. He didn't need anyone to 'take care of him', and he was going to fight them tooth and nail.

"Don't argue, dad," Alexis said.

Just as Castle was about to force his point on them, the doctor came into the room, a smile on his boyish face. "Making a break for it, I see?" Michaels asked in good humor.

"As fast as I can," Castle said. "No offense."

"Ah, none taken. So, I just came by to give you your prescription." He handed the prescription slip to Castle who glanced at it for a brief second before slipping it into his pocket.

"Thanks, doc," he said, rising from the bed and headed towards the door.

"Uh, Mr. Castle?" The writer turned and looked at the doctor, who was pointing to the wheelchair. Rolling his eyes, he plopped himself down in the chair more forcefully than was necessary. "I'll see you in six weeks." Beckett smirked at her fiance's childlike attitude.

_Six weeks, right._ Castle nodded and Beckett took the helm of the wheelchair, pushing him through the corridor. Martha went ahead to bring the car around front.

For all Beckett cared, the nurse could supervise her from behind, but she was feeling rather possessive about who was going to be pushing Castle's wheelchair, and she didn't care who judged her. In the elevator, she rubbed her hands along his shoulders, happy to feel his warmth again. Smiling, more to herself than anyone else, she just continued to massage his shoulders, run her hands over his neck.

The doors opened, and her smile turned into a straight line as she had to grasp the handles of the chair again and push. "Alexis, why don't you sit up front," Beckett murmured, helping Castle into the back seat, not that he needed any help, mind you. She closed the door, passed the wheelchair off to the staff member, and placed Castle's bag in the trunk. Beckett siddled up against Castle in the back seat, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around her, and it felt so incredibly right. She missed the feeling of him.

Martha occasionally glanced in her rearview mirror to see the two of them, and smiled. Everything was right in the world again. Beckett looked out the window on Castle's side, just as he was, watching the cars pass them by. She had expected Castle to say something about his mother driving his car, but he offered nothing. In fact, he had been silent for the whole ride home. Beckett swallowed down her concerns, convincing herself that he just needed time, that maybe he was just so overwhelmed at the moment that he couldn't make heads or tails.

She could understand that, better than anyone, really, but all she could hope for when it dawned on her was that he didn't pull away. That would hurt more than words could say.

* * *

They eventually made it to the loft, after picking up his prescription, and Castle had to reach over awkwardly to open his door. Beckett watched him, and he fumbled for the handle the first time around. She could see the frustration on his face, but he got the door open before she could comment, offer to do it for him. He slammed his door shut, and she sighed heavily. Opening her door, she and Martha shared a knowing smile.

Grabbing Castle's back from the trunk, she carried it effortlessly in one hand, and looped her arm through his while they headed for the elevator. The whirring of the motor was the only sound to fill the contained space until the doors opened and everyone stepped out. Alexis opened the door with her key and everyone stepped inside.

"How about I make us dinner?" Martha said, hands in the air. "We must celebrate!"

"Martha, that sounds -" Beckett was about to say lovely, but when Castle interrupted her, she cut her eyes towards him.

"Actually, mother, I'm not hungry, but you ladies go ahead. I'm just gonna…" he pointed towards his bedroom, or his study, and headed in that direction.

Beckett looked at Martha, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but Martha was quick to silence her. "It's alright, dear. I'll fix him up something."

She resisted asking Martha to make sure whatever she made him was edible when she was finished with it, and followed Castle through his study. "Castle?" she called after him, following him towards the bedroom.

He sat down on the bed just as she entered after him, kicking off his runners. "You okay?" she asked on her approach. The corners of her mouth curled upwards, seeing him smiling at her.

"Yeah," he he answered, nodding.

"You want to lay down?"

"No, Kate... No."

"Then what, Rick? What do you want to do?" He had no answer, merely shook his head. She peppered kisses along his jaw. "You should eat something. Please, babe. For me." Her lips connected with his, and he responded slowly to her.

He waited for a beat, thinking, mulling over the fact that his stomach was rumbling with hunger. "Can we order in?" he whispered, and it earned him a smile.

"Anything you want, Rick. Anything at all."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so very much for the reviews, I appreciate it! Out of curiosity, do you mind if this story goes into M territory in the future? Or would you prefer a more watered down version?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven:**

The loft was dark. The moon was high enough to barely illuminate the living room through the window. The loft was silent, eerie in the middle of the night, and Castle looked around his own home as though he were a stranger to it. He recognized everything, of course, but it all seemed strange. Everything felt alien to him, and he had no idea why he was in the kitchen. He looked towards his study. The door was closed, but there was a very faint light coming from the crack between the barrier and the floor. The refrigerator behind him made a noise, motor kicking into gear and keeping the food inside cold, adding to the creepy mood that flooded the large space. Ominous creeks filled the air, wood expanding in relief.

Brow furrowed, Castle moved out from behind the breakfast bar. He had no idea why he had even been standing there in the first place, didn't remember getting out of bed to venture into the familiar territory. The last thing he remembered was falling into bed, tiredness quickly taking its toll on him and sending him into sleep easily enough. Had he been sleep walking? Something felt so incredibly off. The natural noises of the appliances in the kitchen were unnerving, and he paused at the stairs leading to the second level. His body didn't want to move, but he forced it to cooperate.

He headed up the stairs, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side. He poked his head into Alexis's room, but it was empty. There was a familiar sinking feeling in his gut, the same one he had when Alexis had moved out in the first place, with that fruit loving hippie. Ugh, that still made his blood boil, but Alexis did have a mind of her own, and if this was what she wanted, she wouldn't let him stand in her way. For how upset he was at the decisions she was making, she was twice as angry at him for his snide comments towards her boyfriend.

Perhaps he deserved her anger, he thought to himself as he closed the door. He looked down the hall towards his mother's room. His barefeet pressed against the hardwood floor, one particular floorboard creaked under his weight, sounding loudly through the loft, and he winced.

Should he take his foot off, or stay still? _God, Castle, you're being ridiculous._ What the hell was he going to do? Standing there all fucking night and wait for dawn and alarm clocks to signal that it was okay for him to move around his own home again?

Cringing, he lifted his foot, carried on to Martha's door. Opening it a crack, he saw her sleeping form in bed, a light snore filling the room. She had a mask over her eyes, which made him shake his head. Still, seeing her, hearing her, relief washed over him and he couldn't explain why it was so important to make sure she was there.

Heading back down the stairs, he looked around again, heart thundering in his ears. He headed towards the study, eyeing the faint light at the floor. He reached for the knob, gave it was twist and opened the door. A head of caramel hair poked out from the desk chair, but Beckett was facing away from him. He leaned on the doorframe, waiting for her to turn around and give him some attention, but she never did. _What's she looking at?_ he wondered, glancing up at the large image of the spiral staircase that had always sparked his creativity.

"Kate?" he prompted after a moment, but… nothing.

Castle pushed off the frame, looking at his fiance as he walked around the desk, determined to see what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. He loved watching the wheels turning in her intelligent mind. It was always such a turn on for him that it was a wonder why they hadn't had sex in the precinct yet after solving plenty of murders.

She was still, didn't move, didn't acknowledge him, and his anxiety rose, serving to confirm his earlier feeling that something was wrong. "Kate?" he asked again. A flash of silver caught his attention first, coming from the floor and he realized he was about to step on a knife while he was still barefoot. He bent to pick it up, and holding it up, there was blood. He was transfixed on it, throat constricting with that bad feeling he'd had for the last ten minutes or so. "Ka…"

He looked at the woman in his chair, seeing her for the first time. The knife fell from his grasp, good hand reaching for Beckett in a panic. "KATE!" he cried out, anguish lacing every letter of her name. Her head was bowed, her hair curtaining her face, but he could see how pale she was; it was a stark contrast to the color of her hair. Lifting her head against the back of the chair, he let out a strangled sob. Her eyes closed, lips only slightly parted. No breath came from her.

Her arms rested on the armrests and blood dripped down, staining the floor at the wheels of the chair. "No, no, no," he whimpered, looking at the slashes on her wrists. He pulled her from the chair, and she crashed against him bonelessly. He shook her in his arms, pleading for any response. _Anything_. His heart had just been ripped from his chest, and he cried into her beautiful locks of hair. He sank backwards, pulling her into his lap, holding her close, inhaling the scent of cherries that was simply associated with _her_ now. "No, KATE!"

* * *

Startled awake by Castle's frantic movements in bed, Beckett looked at him as he carried on sleeping, trapped within his own mind, his brow furrowed deeply, his breathing so heavy. The groans, the whimpers, the call of her name had her turning towards him. Her hand reached out to his chest, touching him, hoping to ground him. "Shh," she whispered close to his ear. "It's just a dream, Rick." It did nothing to soothe him, and he twisted more sharply in bed, burying his head further into his pillow as his whole body went rigid.

"KATE!" Castle shot up in bed, blankets flying off his legs in a flurry. His chest heaved, and his black v-neck stuck to him uncomfortably as he rolled his way out of bed and onto his feet - he just needed to move and get away, the image still so clear in his mind - but his legs protested against his weight, and he sank down to the floor, leaning against the bed.

"Castle?" Beckett questioned hurriedly, throwing the blanket off herself as well when she saw her fiance was leaving in a panic, but he didn't get very far. She crawled over to his side of the bed and dropped down next to him, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, despite the sweat trickling down his skin. He breathed so heavily, on the verge of hyperventilating. "You're okay. You're okay," she cooed, pulling him against her. He looked like he was about to be sick, hunched over just so. Reluctantly, he came towards her, before his head crashed against her shoulder, accompanied by a sob. He reached, clutching at her loose t-shirt and pressed his head against her chest.

She rocked him, continued whispering in his ear until his sobs died down. "I s-saw you," he murmured, leaning against her.

"What? What did you see?" she asked gently. He was shaking in her arms, and she kept rocking him.

"I've had this… this image in my head… since I woke up," he started. "I don't know… I don't know how it got there, Kate. I've never… I've never imagined you like that. It's been haunting me ever since."

"What?" Beckett pressed her cheek against the back of his head. She inhaled his musky scent, was thankful for it. "I don't understand."

"I…" he swallowed thickly, a vile taste in the back of his throat. Beckett reached for Castle's nightstand, and brought the half full glass of water in front of him. He took it, sipped, washed away the taste before handing it back, and she replaced it on the table for him. She held him tighter after that, trying to help calm his tremors.

He explained his nightmare to her, sobbed when he got to the part where he saw her, the blood and what she had done, and Beckett held him tighter still, guilt settling heavily on her. "I just… I don't know where this _image_ came from. I've never… It's just… it's _there_ in the back of my mind. I don't know _why._"

Closing her eyes, she released the words carefully, "I do." It wasn't wedding humour, either. She suddenly understood his behavior over the last few days. "You must've heard me, babe, when you were on life support. I told you a story. You just have no idea what you heard. Granted, that wasn't the _point_ of the story, but I didn't mean to put the thought in your head." Looking back now, she should have known better. His writer's imagination tended to run away with him, thinking the worst case scenarios. "I'm so sorry, but… I would never…"

"You've thought about it, though."

"Once. A long time ago, Castle," she said, and quickly got into the point of the story. "It was the night I discovered your books; the night you saved my life for the first time. I never thought of it again. I promise."

"Kate," he started, pulling away slightly, enough to look into her eyes and see the tears that had sprung there, the regret, the outpour of love she had for him. "You can never… if anything were to ever happen… I want you to _live._ Don't escape. Don't fall down a rabbit hole again. Just live."

She brought his forehead to hers, knowing exactly what he meant. Thinking about it now, though, she didn't know if that was something she could do. Living without him? Perish the thought. She knew she wasn't strong enough for that now. He needed to hear it, though, shivered in her arms violently as cool air tickled his sweat slicked skin. "I promise, Castle." She reached for the blanket, pulling it down to them, she wrapped it around the two of them, knowing they weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.

"We're not done talking about this," he murmured, further worry in the back of his mind. Castle could read her like a book, and she huffed her response. Perhaps it was more of a conversation to be had when it wasn't the middle of the night.

His eyes had landed on something else, and he was just dying to know the story. He needed the story. "Wh-what's this?" he asked, eyes cast downward. He lifted his hand to the stretched out collar of her shirt and tugged on it, exposing more of her chest for him to feast his eyes on. She looked down with him, a shy smile gracing her lips as he looked down at the fresh mark on her skin, the left side of her chest.

Confusion was written all over his face, even more so when he noticed her smile. "It's a tattoo," she explained casually. "You know, ink, needles…"

"I know what a tattoo is," he ground out, amusedly. "It's… new. It's… a heart beat? When did you get this?" His eyes traced the squiggly line.

Beckett chuckled, her hand curving around his ear. "When the doctor told me you were stable, you have no idea how happy I was; how relieved I was. I took a picture of the monitor, I know it's weird, but your heartbeat was strong again, and I knew you were coming back to me. So when visiting hours were over… I went to the tattoo parlor." she shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Babe, it's your lifeline. It's _our_ lifeline."

* * *

**A/N: I sort of have a direction for the story, but it might involve a time jump. We'll see. :S Thank you all for your opinions on the rating, and I think we'll get there soon. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

"How about we get you back to bed," Beckett said after a while. Her legs were falling asleep, tingling sharply, and she hated that feeling with a passion. Castle shook his head against her, but began to pull away regardless. She watched him rise unsteadily to his feet, his own body protesting movements. He winced, and she was on her feet with him instantly. "You need another painkiller?"

"No," he shook his head again, and the blanket fell off his shoulders to pool at their feet. "It's not so bad, right now. I can handle it."

She smiled at his strength, even though it was completely unnecessary. She would understand if he needed a little more help to master the pain in his arm, but she couldn't force it on him. "Okay," she offered instead, running her hand along his arm until she reached the edge of the cast at his elbow. Martha had signed the new one again, adding color and more flare to it with swiggles and hearts. Of course, he had no idea she'd done it until _after_ he'd woken up, but the look on his face had been priceless. Something told her that he wouldn't have wanted any sort of writing on the cast.

"I'm going for a shower," he informed her somewhat distantly, like the image of her apparent suicide was still haunting the back of his mind.

Beckett sat down on the edge of the bed and looked towards that stupid picture of the stupid lion in the corner that looked like it wanted to pounce on her and eat her whole. Castle had disappeared into the bathroom, a sliver of light illuminated the room through the crack the door was left open. She sat there for a few minutes, head swimming with everything that was Castle at that moment. She looked down at the tattoo etched on her chest, smiled at it because there was no feeling better than learning that her fiance's heartbeat was strong again, that he was strong again, and he was coming back to her _again_.

She rose from the bed after a moment, wandered towards the bathroom and nudged the door open so she could lean there and watch him appreciatively, arms crossed over her chest. He'd managed to remove his shirt, dropped it on the counter, out of the way.

Castle looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Starring's creepy," he muttered.

"Suffer. I'm just so happy to have you home," she murmured. He nodded, offered nothing else in return. Stepping forward, she took the plastic wrap from his hand, and began the process of making his cast waterproof. Beckett could feel his eyes on her the entire time, and when she looked up, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Good?"

He nodded, knowing he would not have been able to pull off such a delicate operation one handed so easily. And _that_ frustrated him to no end. They stood there and she moved her hands along his chest, up to his broad shoulders. He knew what was coming, her hands going for the waistband of his boxers, and he also knew that her clothes were soon going to follow. Undoubtedly, she was about to invite herself into his shower. A wet, naked Beckett should always be treasured, Castle knew, but he could wash his own damn hair, just like he could take off his own damn boxers, and this was definitely a time when he didn't want to be coddled.

His hand reached for one of hers, catching it gently. Eyes flicked to her wrist for a second, reassured himself before he brought their hands to his mouth, peppered a couple of kisses on the back of her hand all the while looking at her over them with love and affection, mixed with a little frustration. "Go back to bed, Kate," he said against her hand.

There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. Castle had seen it, nonetheless, and he couldn't bring himself to apologize for it, but he hoped his eyes spoke volumes to her. _I'm sorry for this. I'm sorry I woke you. I'm just sorry._

Beckett could see he wasn't giving her a choice, and so she nodded, stepping back until her hand fell from his grasp. "Okay," she murmured, receiving his unspoken message. Just as she was about to leave, she turned back to him with her hand resting on the doorknob. "Castle?" Waiting for him to look up at her, she said, "I love you, you know."

He cracked a smile, perhaps the first genuine one since he'd come home. "I know. I love you, too."

* * *

Beckett sat in bed in darkness, save for the light coming from the partially open bathroom door. She kept her eyes glued on the door where her fiance was showering, not singing to himself like he usually did, and completely without her. It shouldn't bother her that he needed time, but it did. She felt like he was pulling away from her, distancing himself, and that lifeline they had talked about was being pulled into a straight line as he pulled further. She should be more understanding, she knew. After all, there had been times when she had required space from him, but that was before they had gotten together.

She ached knowing she had given him nightmares and put painful thoughts in his head without meaning to, but this wasn't the first nightmare he's had in regards to her, by any means. He'd woken her up a time or two in the past, especially after what happened on the bridge with 3XK a year ago.

Understanding, she now knew why he'd barely touched her since they came home yesterday. The aftermath of the nightmare was the most contact they'd had.

She could see the steam coming from the bathroom and knew that his shower was undoubtedly punishingly hot. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them while she listened to the spray of water. Minutes passed, twenty to be precise, when the water was shut off and she could hear the glass door sliding open. She waited, and waited, and _finally_ the door opened wide and Castle shut off the light. He went for the dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and t-shirt with the Batman symbol on it.

Beckett cracked a smile at that. Her 9-year-old-on-a-sugar-rush was still in there somewhere, at least.

He exchanged the towel around his waist for the boxers, and in her mind, the show was over way too soon. He didn't even look at her before speaking. "Why are you still awake?"

"I'm cold."

Castle raised an eyebrow and wandered around to his side of the bed where the blanket was still resting on the floor. He picked it up and moving towards Beckett's side, he brought the blanket up to her, and as well as he could with one hand, he tucked her in with it.

She looked up at him expectantly, but her eyes slipped closed when he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. He pulled away, and she was quick to grab his hand. "You're not coming back bed?"

"Not right now. Go to sleep, Kate."

"You're kidding, right?" Looking at him, though, she knew he wasn't. Reluctantly, she let his hand go, swallowing down her disappointment. This was not how she expected their first night home to go. She had expected it to be life affirming. She had expected magic. She just wanted him, but she saw the look in his eyes when he looked at her, like he was trying to see past the vivid images conjured by his writer's imagination and failing miserably. "Castle," she said, just as he was about to leave the room. He turned back to her, expression soft. "I'm right here." _I'm not dead. You're not dead. _"We've alive."

"I know. I'm just… not tired anymore." It was a bold-faced lie; she could see his exhaustion clearly. And then he was gone, disappearing into his office, leaving her to her own overactive imagination.

Heh, at this rate, she would have much rathered the whiny version of Castle. She rubbed her hands over her face, hard, and leaned back against her pillows. She didn't know what she was supposed to do here. She looked at her hands in her lap, twisted the ring on her finger. She could hear the sound of his laptop turning on from the next room over. She remained quiet, listening intently for some sort of clue. She even didn't know what she was listening for.

For as tired as she was, Castle's well-being kept her wide awake. She settled down in bed, smoothing out the blanket along her legs and just listened. The slow taps of the keyboard, a growl of frustration, and eventually (an hour later) the sound of the laptop being slammed shut. She expected him to come into the bedroom, resume his place next to her, but more time passed and he was a no-show.

Never before had she been so torn between giving him the space he obviously wanted, and satisfying her own need to be right next to him at all hours of the day. All hours of the day… _Ugh_. She needed to go back to work in a couple of days. She was already stretching Gates' patience as it was.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there, wrestling with her own thoughts. Her heart won the battle, and she was on her feet. Grabbing her housecoat, she entered his study, but he wasn't in there. Frowning, she wandered towards the living room and spotted him sitting on the couch, looking down at the arm in the cast. "Castle? What's wrong?" she asked, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him. Castle sighed heavily, shaking his head. So many things were wrong. So many. "Babe, why are you shutting down on me?"

Silence filled the room. Beckett didn't push him for an answer, but she looked at him intently, waiting, but she was careful not to stare at him like she would a suspect. She left that part of her at work. Here, in this place, with him, she was Kate, and _now_ because of him, she knew how to distinguish the two.

"I don't feel right," he said after a while.

She was alert immediately, inching forward to touch his forehead. "What? Do you need to go to the hospital? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Kate, no," he was quick to assure and caught her hand. "I don't mean like that."

"Oh," she flushed, but laced her fingers with his regardless.

"I… may not get back the use of my hand…"

"There's still a chance -"

"What's a writer without his writing hand?"

"For the sake of argument, let's say it does happen, and you don't get the use of your hand back…" She was never one to sugarcoat anything, and that was something Castle always appreciated about her. "This," she gestured to the encased hand, "does not equal this." And she ran her hands through his hair, appreciating the mind that lay within. He was an intelligent man, and he may be down on his luck now, but she had faith that he would get through this, whatever the outcome. "I didn't fall in love with you because of your hand, Castle. Right now, there may be certain… _activities_… that won't be as enjoyable with your left hand," she offered with a sly grin, "but I am more than willing to be your hands for that."

His lips twitched slightly at that, and she couldn't help but think that was progress. Beckett shifted off the table and moved to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He had no choice but to look at her. "You're strong," she assured, "and we'll get through this together. I promise."

Even though her words didn't erase his worry, it was enough to keep it at bay for now. "Stay positive." She leaned forward, dusted her lips along his jaw, smiled at the low rumble in the back of his throat. "Stay Castle." She knew he was tired, though, and still weak. The day had been overwhelming enough for him, and what he really needed was to, "Come back to bed, babe."

This time, he nodded his head. Stay positive. She detangled herself from him, and pulled him to his feet. He fell asleep next to her, closer to her side of the bed than his, but sleep would not claim Beckett for the rest of the night, and she continued to stand guard over him, prepared to chase away whatever nightmare came next. She mulled things over in her mind, and one thing was certain. Castle was circling, trapped in a whirlpool of '_What if'_ and depression.

Heh, _she_ was trapped just the same, knowing that if things didn't go their way, it would take a long time to get the Castle she knows back to his old cheery self - if at all. His arm in a cast had already changed him somewhat, now the thought of whether or not he would be able to use his hand again filled her mind, and just how much of a change she would see in her fiance if the worst were to happen.

* * *

**A/N: You guys are amazing! Thank you very much for your support of this story. Funny how this was really only supposed to be a 2 shot. LMAO. I think next chapter will be a time jump. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Three Weeks Later.**

Beckett sat in the precinct, staring at the phone she had just replaced on the base. It was Friday, and she was looking forward to nothing more than going home and soaking in the bathtub. She hoped that she might be able to convince Castle to join her, but over the last few weeks, their intimacy levels had dropped… _severely_… right down to barely there. Oh, sure, they'd kiss and he'd ask her about her day, but it was eating at him every morning she went to work and he… _didn't_. When she came home, she'd find him with a vacant expression on his face because it was the best he could do to hide from her how hard this was for him. At least she let him think he was succeeding, but she knew. She was a trained detective, after all, and she had long since learned what Castle's 'tells' were.

She looked at the chair. _His_ chair. She hated when other people sat in it, but she wouldn't tell anyone else that. She didn't want to show her possessive side to anyone other than the man she wanted to be handcuffed to for the rest of her life. There was five minutes left in her shift, and she prayed there were no more murders for her to investigate. She'd had her fill, and was looking forward to her glorious weekend off.

Part of her felt bad. She hadn't had much opportunity to spend time at home with Castle. She resented herself for that, just as much as he did, it seemed. Though she was looking forward to her weekend off, part of her _wasn't_ at the same time. With how distant he'd become, and the fact that the written word seemed to be eluding him, being at work seemed like an escape from that, and it killed her to even _think_ that. Sometimes, it was just easier to be around dead people than it was being around him.

She wished she could say it was temporary, but as each day wore on, as each night passed them by and he offered her nothing more than a kiss to the crown of her head before they rolled over on their own sides of the bed, she was losing her own positivity. She was getting tired, and for Katherine Beckett, that was saying something.

Five minutes were up. Thinking about Castle usually made time fly by, so she wasn't surprised when the clock on her screensaver struck five on the nose. Gathering her keys and phone, she turned off her monitor and headed to the elevator, missing her fiance's presence, the offer to head to Remy's for a burger and shake, or better yet the thought of ordering in.

Rolling her eyes to herself, she stepped inside the elevator and just accepted the fact that it was going to take however long it took for her to get home. She stopped for Remy's, craving it now, and grabbed some take-away meals for the two of them. Castle would appreciate a delicious burger, and she hoped that it would boost his spirits at the very least. She didn't care if they curled up on the couch and watched a movie - she'd see that as progress, and it was much needed.

Arriving at the loft, the juggled their meals and her keys and opened the door. "Castle?" she called out to him, but the wide space was quiet. She set the brown bag on the breakfast bar with her keys and phone and listened for a second. Hearing nothing, the click of her heels took her to the study, but he wasn't there, either. "Rick?" she called towards the bedroom, but he wasn't in there, either.

Frowning, she came back to the living room, and smiled when she saw Martha coming down the stairs from her room. She hoped the actress would at least know where her son was. "Katherine, darling…"

"Martha, hi. Where's Rick?"

"He left."

"Wh-what? Well, wh-where did he go?" she asked breathily, confused as ever. "Why wouldn't he call me?"

"He went to the Hamptons."

"The Hamptons!?" Beckett said loudly, and Martha flinched.

"He made me promise not to call you. And frankly, kiddo, if he needs to get away to find himself again…" she shrugged. "Well, it's better than moping around here."

The detective felt like she had just been sucker punched. "Does he think I'm not going to go up there and drag his ass back here? Martha, how could you let him go _alone_?" she growled. "And why wouldn't he tell me? Why wouldn't _you_ tell me?"

"When Richard gets an idea in his head, you know there isn't anything you can do to talk him out of it, and he made me promise not to say anything," she finished on a light shrug. It was no big deal, she felt. If her Richard needed time to sort through whatever despair he was feeling, then she'd do her best to help him.

"_Why?_"

"Oh, something about you talking him out of it. Wait… Where are you going?" Martha asked as Beckett practically turned into a hurricane and swiped her keys up from the counter and headed for the door.

"To give him a piece of my mind," she snapped, and the door slammed shut behind her harder than she had meant it to. Frowning to herself, she wondered if she should turn back, apologize to Martha, because it really wasn't her fault. Whatever this was, it had nothing to do with the aging actress. However, Beckett's feet took her forward, not backward, and soon enough, she was in her squad car.

* * *

It was dark out when she arrived at Castle's place in the Hampton's, though she remembered him saying at one point that it was _theirs_ now. The thought had warmed her, even though she resisted it. She was a proud woman, and the last thing she wanted was for people in general to see her as some gold digger - not that she really cared about what other people thought… well, maybe she did. _A little._

She shut the engine off, irritation radiating from her in waves as she opened the door and stepped outside into the chilling air. Car locked, she headed for the door and found the key on her keyring that would let her inside. The door swung open violently. "RICHARD CASTLE!" she shouted into the large space, and stepped inside, reminiscent of the first case they had worked together. The door slammed shut behind her. After spending hours driving, she couldn't keep herself restrained.

"Well that tone's never good," Castle said from the living room. Following his voice, she found him on the sofa, looking at her with those puppy eyes that wouldn't save him this time.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she snarled. "I could throttle you. What were you thinking?!"

Castle offered no response to her, and merely looked away. He knew what he'd done was wrong, of course he knew that, but he just needed the space. It felt like every few minutes he was being _checked on_, and it was suffocating him. To voice it out loud to Beckett, though? That's something he couldn't really do, and his throat constricted accordingly, trapping the words.

"Did you think I wasn't going to come up here?" she pressed, stepping forward.

"I know you're upset…" he started.

"You're damn right I'm upset," she scoffed. "In fact, I don't think upset even begins to cover it, Castle. Imagine my surprise when I come home after a long day, with dinner for you and I, I might add, and you're nowhere to be seen. Now, I would've bet my badge that you wouldn't just up and leave _without telling me_, but clearly I was wrong," she gestured towards him, "because here you are."

"Well, I didn't realize I was on a leash."

Beckett was reeling. "What? You're not… that's not… Castle, you can do whatever you want. I would not have tried to stop you from coming here." Castle's eyes cut sharply towards her. Okay, maybe she might've. Was it so bad that she didn't want to spend a day apart from him? Though, the real punch in the face was the fact that Castle seemed to want to spend some time apart from her. She swallowed thickly. "What's wrong? Is it something I said? Something I did?" she asked, parking herself on the arm of a chair, still at a safe distance from her fiance, as if it still represented the space he seemed to want from her.

"No," he said quickly… but the silence in the air gave him the time he needed to be truthful with her. "Yes? _Maybe._ I don't even know, Kate."

"You don't know," Beckett mused after a moment, nodding her head. "Well, I'll tell you what I do know." When Castle looked at her, she knew she had his undivided attention. "I know that you've been restless the last few weeks. Frustrated, even, because all of the things you would normally do to keep your mind off of your hand are just slightly out of your reach because of it."

Castle looked away, and Beckett let him because they both knew she was spot on. She knew she still had his attention, ear turned towards her.

"I know you haven't been sleeping well, if at all. Even when you thought I was still asleep and you crawled out of bed to spend hours in your office, or the living room. And on the nights when you do actually fall asleep... Castle, your nightmares are eating you alive, and you won't talk to _me_ about them, so…" she trailed off with a shrug. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, and it was in his hands to tell her how to.

"I know you haven't been writing." Castle tensed at that one. "I know you feel…" she hesitated, trying to find the right way to put it so he wouldn't take any sort of offense, "_less_, but Castle, I promise it's just temporary. In a few more weeks, the cast will come off and -"

"And I have an eighty-five percent chance I may not regain the use of my hand," he cut her off.

"Eighty…"

"... five percent," he reiterated as Beckett absorbed the news. "I just found out today at my appointment."

"There's still hope, Castle. You're still healing."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, but the corners of his lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. Glass-half-full-Beckett. He rather liked it, because it was usually he who was so upbeat about dire situations. Sighing to himself, he leaned back on the couch and let his head fall back. Beckett came to sit next to him, hip to hip, and her hand ran along his chest as it expanded.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked gently. He lifted his head tiredly and looked at her, hazel meeting blue. "I'll understand if you want me to go."

He believed her, too, reminded of the time apart after she had been shot. His adam's apple bobbed on a heavy swallow of bad memories, things they had moved past together. He shook his head in answer. "No, but Kate…"

_Oh, God, there was a 'but'._

"I'm just not in a good place right now. I…"

"Shhh," she murmured, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. "It's okay. I get it. Maybe it's time you came back to the precinct. The boys miss you. I miss you."

"You're the one who told me I shouldn't," he shot back defensively.

"I know, Castle, but that was only until you were healed well enough…"

"Do you know what Gates is going to do when she finds out I can't use my hand anymore?"

"Babe, you don't know that for sure. You're jumping ahead of yourself…"

"I won't be able to go with you out in the field. I won't be your partner anymore."

She reached up, hand grazing along the stubble he'd left unshaven that morning, and directed his attention back towards her. "You will always be my partner, one way or another," she promised.

Castle's forehead came to rest upon Beckett's. "But I want both ways."

She did, too.

* * *

**I'll be honest, this chapter took a long time, and I'm still not sure I even like it. I've never really been good at portraying depressed people, and doing it with someone like Castle... kinda a challenge. lol!**

**THANKS FOR READING, THOUGH!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Beckett feels it, too. She wants both ways for the both of them just as much as he does, but she's a cop, and she's realistic, and the possibility is very real that Castle might not be allowed to come back to the precinct. He may not have the opportunity to watch her back again, which frustrates her just as much as it does him. She couldn't ask for a better partner than him, and she didn't want to get stuck with some _kid_ who didn't know how to clean his own nose… or worse… Sully, who didn't know how to clean his own desk. She shuddered at the thought.

Her fingers carded through the fine strands of his hair when he leaned back again, exhaustion catching up with him. She wondered if he drove to the Hamptons. His car wasn't in the driveway, but that didn't mean it wasn't in the garage. If he did, he deserved a royal kick in the ass that she would be only too happy to deliver. She hoped he had called a car service and didn't chance it behind the wheel when he was just so tired.

She looked around the house. Bottles of alcohol sat on the dining table, obviously collected from the cellar below, but the drinking glass was empty. _Clean_ empty from the looks of it, which she took as a sign that she arrived just in time. She looked at the coffee table before them, a bottle of pills sat on top. She'd be lying if she said the thought hadn't occurred to her before now, but she just hadn't had the heart to even bring it up. "I'm not losing you to these, am I?" she asked, picking up the tiny bottle of painkillers.

Castle opened his eyes and looked at the object in her fingers that looked so delicate that they couldn't possibly be able to take down men twice her size… and yet… they could. She looked at the prescription information on the bottle, turned it over sideways to better read it. "No," he said slowly.

"Castle, you were supposed to stop taking these a week ago," she growled. "How did you get this refilled? No, wait, don't tell me. _You know a guy._ Damnit, Castle." Caught up in her momentary rage, she threw the bottle towards the kitchen. It pinged off the fridge and landed somewhere on the floor. Castle nearly started for them, but the look in her eyes arrested him. He clenched his jaw tightly. "No. You don't need them. They aren't going to make you better, Castle. Now come on." She grabbed his arm and pulled.

* * *

Beckett was up before the sun even considered rising. She showered, rummaged through her spare clothes left behind from the last visit to the Hamptons. Jeans and a teal shirt. Fixing her father's watch onto her wrist, she looked at Castle still sleeping. She smiled because she loved this man incredibly so, and then she felt a pang for the very same reason. She had seen the bottles on the table, thankfully unopened for the most part when she had arrived in the Hampton's last night. It didn't take a genius to figure out what would have happened, or where Castle might've woken up in the morning.

She left the bedroom, descended the stairs. She gathered up the bottles and returned them to the cellar, sealing away the temptation. There was another temptation, though, one that landed somewhere in the kitchen last night, and she went off in search for it, but fifteen minutes later and she turned up empty. She looked around wildly for the little bottle; there were only so many places it could have rolled to. Grinding her teeth together, she came to the only logical conclusion, and her eyes glanced towards the stairs where _he_ was sleeping.

Growling to herself, she began to make breakfast.

The sunrise that morning was breathtaking, giving the clouds in the sky a perfect red-orange glow about them. Beckett was in the middle of making breakfast when Castle came down the stairs, yawning, dressed in jeans and a button down, tucked in perfectly. Maroon. She always loved that color on him, too, but blue was by far the best. It brought out his eyes. She looked up at him, eggs forgotten in the pan. "Good morning," she greeted, a warm smile on her face, despite knowing what she knew. She'd catch him eventually. He'd slip up. They always do, but this was a slippery slope. She couldn't just accuse him of taking the bottle.

Castle gave her smile back, pressed a kiss to her forehead. Eyes fluttering closed, she lost herself in the feel of it. Even if this was all he would give her right now, it was enough to give her gooseflesh all over, tingles racing up and down her spine.

She was expecting him to pull away. He always pulled away from her after the one-second kiss, but he stayed close this time, breathing and exhaling into her hair. She could smell his aftershave. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see him looking at her. Her heart stopped a beat when she felt, more than saw, him leaning in towards her. She inhaled sharply, and eggs be damned. It was gentle, a touch of his mouth against hers, ghosting across her lips like a feather. It was everything, and it wasn't enough at the same time.

_Oh, God, screw the bottle._

She was crawling out of her skin with need and he'd not even touched her. As much as she wanted to surge forward and take what she needed, she was frozen. She could do this for him, be still, let him come around at his own pace. It wasn't fair of her to rush him after everything he'd been through. It wasn't fair that he'd been so patient with her while she was recuperating back then, either.

Beckett gave a breathy little moan, one that would have been embarrassing if it hadn't been for the emotional distance between them over the last few weeks.

He kissed her. A real kiss and her hand abandoned the handle of the pan and came to graze along his jaw. He shaved, and while part of her loved the stubble he sported in the mornings (it turned her on terribly so), this was a step in the right direction. It was a step towards Castle normalcy, and she wanted to get back to it more than anything. Before long, he was pulling back, chest heaving. Beckett's mouth chased his until she was on her toes, and he was just out of reach. Slowly, her eyes opened and she fell back down firmly on the flats of her feet. She looked up at him, breathing heavily. "What was that for?" she asked, and it immediately sounded stupid to her.

Her tongue slid along her lips, gathering up whatever remnants were left from him, brought her bottom lip between her teeth. "You are extraordinary," he answered as though it explained everything, but it didn't. Not for Beckett, anyway. She took the compliment for what it was, blushed because he had that power over her. "You didn't have to come up here, but you did, and… thank you."

"Did you doubt I would?"

He looked down into her hazel eyes, his left hand coming to her jaw and running along it lovingly before it fell back to his side. "I thought… maybe, yeah. I know… I know you've been frustrated with me. I didn't want you here." The admission is like a punch in the gut and she tenses so visibly that Castle can't not notice. "I'm glad you did, though. I like having you in my space, Kate," he's quick to amend. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Well, that's good, Castle. I like being in your space." She looked at him, and she saw a different man than the one she had pulled towards the bedroom last night. "You slept the whole night?"

"No," he admits, but he smiles anyway. "Most of it, though." She _knows_. She might've slept through it, but now she knows.

Silence settles over them, and each are content to simply stare at each other, appreciating one another in their own ways, even though her brain is working in overdrive. She could see him so clearly creeping down the stairs, searching for the bottle until his thick fingers wrap around it in triumph... "Kate?" Castle said after a moment.

"Hmm?" Her ears practically perk up, eager for whatever words he might throw her way, because he really knew how to move her with his words. She waited patiently with rapt attention. She was practically begging for _something_ from him. They were _so close_ to stepping back on their path of togetherness, she could smell it, she could feel it. Hell, she could still taste it by way of his minty toothpaste.

It's a damn slippery slope, because as much as she hates this right now, she _loves_ this, and her head and heart are at war with one another.

"The eggs are burning," is all he said.

Beckett was confused for a moment, brow knit together, but the smell assaulted her as she registered his words and looked down at the pan. "Oh, shit!" she hissed, grasping the handle and moving the pan off the burner. She turned the stove off and set the pan down, sighing heavily. "Well... that happened," she muttered aloud and glanced towards Castle… but he wasn't there anymore. She found him not too far off, standing at the sliding doors, looking out at the beautiful reddened sky.

She came up behind him, arms snaking around his waist, and splayed across his stomach. While he wasn't the most fit person in the world, he was still toned, broad and incredibly sexy. She rested her cheek on his shoulder blade, smiled when his left hand came up to rest on top of hers. _He needs to know I'm here,_ she thought to herself.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered quickly, breakfast forgotten. She was almost taken aback at Castle wanting to do _something_, even if it was only to take a walk outside. "Let me just…" She was gone before she even finished her sentence, but returned only a moment later with a sweater and her shoes. She could feel his eyes roaming her jean-clad backside as she pulled on the shoes, and she was thankful for having spare clothes there in the Hamptons.

* * *

Outside, there was a comfortable breeze that made her sweater a perfect idea. She walked alongside Castle, occasionally bumping into him on the uneven terrain. The water lapped at the shore. There was a sense of peace out here. She had to give Castle some credit. If there were ever a place to find oneself, or escape, or come to terms with something: this was it. The sand was soft under them, the sun had risen to start warming the day. This morning was bliss.

Before either of them knew it, they were an hour away from the house, and still going, but it wasn't lost on either of them that not a word had been exchanged, either too afraid to burst whatever bubble they had woken up in, or too afraid to point out it had already burst. Halfway through the walk along the beach, Beckett had slipped her hand into his, though, lacing their fingers together. Their hands were made for each other, they knew.

They stopped walking, eventually. Time to head back. He looked out over the water for a minute, inhaled deeply, exhaled long and slow. Beckett squeezed his hand supportively. Castle looked at her, stepped closer to her, crowding her. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the uncertainty. All of it weighed him down. He pressed his forehead to hers and her hands curled around his neck. "Tell me it'll be okay," he asked softly, and Beckett had to strain to hear, "and I'll believe you."

Her heart broke for him. Her hands added reassuring pressure on the back of his neck. "No matter what happens, Rick," she promised, "it'll be okay."

He nodded, and she kissed him, slow and languid. Parting, their noses kissed next. "Let's go home, Castle."

An hour later, they were in her crown vic, headed back towards the city, leaving behind a full bottle of pills in a trashcan that Beckett had neglected to check.

* * *

**A/N: Two updates in one day? Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? To make up for not updating sooner, but it also means this chapter may be lame. XOXO.**


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